


His Mind's Darkness

by FiveLeafClover



Series: The Lost Boys [2]
Category: Casualty (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Car Accidents, Depression, Drunk Driving, Epilepsy, Gen, Happy Ending, Injury Recovery, Recovery, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveLeafClover/pseuds/FiveLeafClover
Summary: Ethan has to learn to live again: to adjust and adapt to his new life. While Cal is stuck in a pit of guilt, it's up to Ethan to get better. Except they are both being suffocated by darkness and there's no one to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [backdated fic, originally posted on fanfiction/net under the username InfinityAndOne, posted here 08/06/18]

_Thursday, 03 September 2015_

Cal was anxiously tapping his foot on the floor, already having been told to stop pacing by Connie. He had ended up slouching on the sofa. For some reason, his body didn't seem to want to sit still. Connie had, of course, told him to stop tapping his foot multiple times, but she'd failed getting through to him and had given up in the end.

Dr McKay, Ethan's doctor, was sitting on Cal's right. A short, stubbly, Scottish man that Cal had rarely seen before Ethan was attacked. Occasionally, when transferring a patient up to ITU, Cal had seen Dr McKay in passing. Sometimes he'd gone to check on the patients he had come to care for and ended up talking with Dr McKay. From what he knew of him, Dr McKay was a nice man. Roughly in his late 40s and slightly balding, Cal always found him easy to recognise - even from the back. It had ended up being a little joke of theirs whenever Cal had gone up to ITU. He'd call Dr McKay, or rather Murray, in his worst Scottish accent. He sometimes, when he had the emotional energy after a shift, stoop down a little lower to his level. Then Dr McKay would turn around, knowing full well who it was, and laugh. Then he'd try to mock Cal's accent, only for it to repeatedly end up being a thick northern accent - to which they'd both grin.

It was the only happiness they'd get on ITU.

And the happiness was gone as soon as Ethan was lying up there, fighting for his life.

In his own mind, Cal found it a lot better to refer to Murray as Dr McKay. Even in the working environment, they had both used each other's first names. But he was Ethan's doctor and Cal was a relative. Even if no one else understood it, it made sense in Cal's mind to refer to him as Dr McKay. And sense was the only thing there to ground him while Ethan was there.

Dr McKay was sitting much straighter than Cal and was twiddling his thumbs. Occasionally, he glanced to Connie over the tops of his thin-rimmed glasses, but no one had spoken since Connie's attempts to ask Cal to stop moving constantly. Cal watched curiously as Dr McKay rolled his blue-striped sleeves up, and then pulled them back down. It was almost as if he'd decided he was too hot - only to become cold a matter of seconds later.

"Dr… Cal," Connie started, looking at Cal properly for the first time since he'd entered the office. It felt like he'd been in there for a number of hours, but he spared a glance at the clock and realised with concealed surprise that he'd been in there for five minutes. "Dr McKay and I have been talking, and we both agreed that this meeting would have been best held between the three of us. I've known you and Ethan for a while now, that is."

She paused as if expecting an answer. Cal nodded.

"As you already know, Ethan woke yesterday from his previous unconscious state. A coma, in simpler terms. What caused him to be in a coma, you also already know."

Cal nodded again, but he was not agreeing nor disagreeing. He was merely acknowledging what she was saying out of habit.

"Now, Cal. The thing is... his body has taken a lot recently."

Cal stared at her, wondering why she came to an abrupt halt. Seconds later, Dr McKay carried on for her.

"As we've explained previously, after he was attacked he lost a lot of blood. It cut off the oxygen supply to his brain briefly - and going into cardiac arrest did too. However, as you know, the damage couldn't have been completely and properly assessed until the pati - until Ethan had woken. It became clear to us, that after he had woken and we had run preliminary tests... the machines that were switched off, the machines that were keeping him stable, did some further damage. Time will tell us how much."

Cal nodded automatically, thankful Dr McKay didn't mention that Cal was the one who switched off the machines in a drunken state after losing hope. That small detail would be best to remain unsaid.

"Cal," Connie addressed seriously, "you do understand what we're telling you, don't you?"

He nodded once more, aware that Connie was not liking his silence.

"We're going to need you to tell us, Cal. To make sure you understand," Dr McKay said softly, placing his warm and strangely comforting hand upon Cal's knee.

He wanted to scream at them. He wanted to tell them that he was a doctor, that he knew what was happening, that he had spent all last night reading medical papers and doing extensive research into his brother's possible condition.

But his mouth wouldn't work. It was dry and he was finding it hard to swallow past the painfully uncomfortable lump in his throat.

"Tell us, Cal. We need you to tell us," Connie said gently.

"My brother might," his voice cracked, "might have brain damage. My little brother..."

A lone tear snaked down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, hoping neither of them saw him. If they did, they were caring enough not to comment. Dr McKay rubbed Cal's knee a couple of times before taking his hand back to his lap.

"I think we're done here for now," he said. "Why don't you go up and sit with your brother, Cal? The nurses will be done by now. I'll be up later, but you can have some time alone now."

"I'll come and visit too. I'll see how you're both doing. I'm sure a lot of people from down here will be up too," she joked slightly, giving Cal a faint smile.

He tried to return it, but his face ached with the force of it. He didn't think he'd ever smile again.

"Go on, Cal. Go and be with your brother," Connie said.

Cal nodded again, not trusting himself to speak without breaking down in tears. He stood up slowly and made his way out. For a moment, he stood in the doorway of Connie's office, staring at the hustle and bustle of the ED. Then he shut the door behind him and started walking. His legs felt weak and his tears started to fall freely. But he didn't go towards the lifts. He headed out of the ED. He couldn't see Ethan, not when he'd caused his current condition. If he hadn't switched off the machines, Ethan may be better.

It was his fault, and he was too much of a coward to face up to it.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew this feeling, it was becoming strangely familiar to him. Or it was completely new. He couldn't tell the difference between the two things. It felt like being in water - with sounds being muffled and his own movements feeling slow (little though they were). He wasn't drowning (he was almost completely sure), yet he didn't feel completely able to breathe properly. Maybe he was drowning slowly, but somehow he was special and could survive in limbo. He didn't know where he was. It was a completely unfamiliar place to him. He didn't know who the people were either, the water-like state around him wasn't helping his vision and he could only see blurry shapes. And even then, only when he didn't feel too tired to move and open his eyes.

He noticed a sound to his right… or was it his left? He couldn't tell the difference and it made his head ache if he tried. Water. That was all he could think. Water, water, water. Then he couldn't breathe. He felt something moving, then realised in an oddly disconnected way that whatever was moving was part of him. He could feel a sensation close to him, and that was telling him that he was moving. He felt (was that his hand?) connect with something. Without thinking his hand clenched and moved. Then there was another sensation – though this one wasn't a good one. It was a horrible sensation, and he realised that he was feeling pain. It was in his arm (left or right, he didn't know). He felt something else... no, someone else. A hand. It was weird, it didn't feel like what his own hand felt like. It was, what was that word? Rubbery. It was... rubbery. So it wasn't hand? If so, why did the shape feel like a hand and the texture feel like rubber?

His head started to throb, distracting him from the pain in his arm and the confusing thing on his arm.

Then he heard the noise again, it was at the same side where the pain in his arm was. But he still couldn't tell whether it was his left or his right.

He tried to swallow, but something felt constricted and he felt choked. He couldn't breathe again and he felt his own arms moving again. But they were constricted as well and he felt the rubber hand - actually were there two? – make contact with his skin. They were pushing him. Then there was a louder noise... it hurt his head more.

There were lots of noises. More and more.

Then silence. Was it silence? Or was he too deep underwater? - if he was underwater...

He still felt his own arms struggling under...  _something_. But then he felt a different sort of pressure. It was soft. It was making him feel relaxed and his arms stopped moving. Then there was something else soft. It was a soft sound. A nice sound. It calmed him further.

Then he felt more underwater then he had done in a while. But he could breathe easier. He felt something else – maybe it was the lack of something else. It was... it was the lack of pressure on his arms, and without realising it, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Dr McKay walked slowly into Ethan's ICU room, smiling sadly as he gazed upon the young man. He still had a deathly pale pallor and his breathing wasn't quite even – but at least he was breathing by himself. It had been a spectacular moment when Ethan started to wean off the ventilator, but even more so when he could fully breathe by himself.

He had since been transferred to nasal oxygen and was coping as well as one could be.

They had been trying to get his to respond to basic commands, but had no luck. It was to be expected, of course, but it was still disappointing. Ethan had woken briefly a few times, only once or twice opening his eyes. Even when he did, it wasn't when responding to commands, and his gaze was unfocused. But it was the first stepping stone in what could possibly be a good recovery.

He walked in further, picking up Ethan's notes and quickly looking through them. Doing a quick check of Ethan's vitals himself, Dr McKay updated the notes and smiled slightly to himself. Ethan's condition was as well as Dr McKay expected when he entered the room.

It was then he realised that Ethan's breathing became slightly quicker and his pulse rose. Feeling hopeful that Ethan was waking again, he walked to Ethan's right side – looking intently at both the monitor and Ethan.

"Ethan?" he asked softly. Ethan showed no signs he heard him but his breathing speed increased further. Dr McKay waited patiently for a moment, as if waiting for Ethan's brain to catch up with his ears. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately his head snapped towards it. Ethan's left arm was moving weakly and without much co-ordination. Dr McKay smiled, pleased Ethan was showing movement. He watched what Ethan was doing, reacting upon instinct when Ethan's hand grabbed one of the IV lines and yanked at it – pulling it out.

He frantically slipped some gloves on his hands and pushed down the spot in which the IV line was ripped out. Ethan's movement slowed down and his hand dropped weakly to the bed. It, luckily, gave Dr McKay a safe environment to work with while re-inserting the line into the crook of Ethan's elbow.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" Dr McKay tried again, feeling his heart sink slightly as Ethan made no sign to let him know he heard him. He knew it was baby steps right now, Dr McKay  _knew_  it was baby steps. But he was still disappointed.

He hadn't made any progress with fixing up the IV line when Ethan started to move again. Both his arms tried to move but Dr McKay pressed both of them down on the bed - effectively restraining him. Ethan was connected up to a lot of important things and he couldn't be allowed to disrupt them.

Dr McKay shouted for help, relieved when a couple of nurses appeared and surprised when the ED's own Connie Beauchamp came into the room. The nurses helped quickly and Dr McKay was grateful, but he looked questioningly towards Connie.

"I came up to see how he was doing... I guess I can see," she explained quickly.

Dr McKay told those in the room, about the situation a quickly as he could, and everyone did their best to help.

Connie stepped forward and shushed everyone in the room after a moment. Dr McKay raised his eyebrows but she didn't seem to notice. Instead she spoke in a comforting voice and stroked some of Ethan's blonde hair off his forehead.

"Shh, it's okay, Ethan," she whispered. "It'll be okay, just relax. It's alright, you're fine." She continued to stroke his hair and Dr McKay felt Ethan's tense arms loosen. Ethan's breathing evened out and his pulse slowed.

He was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Cal leaned back, letting his body sink into the sofa. In one hand sat the television remote, fingers automatically switching channels. In the other his hand held a cool, half-empty beer bottle. He'd already finished one bottle and it had started to push away the guilt of hurting his brother. He knew he had to be strong for Ethan, and he knew he had to be there for Ethan while he was getting better, but his mind was falling to his survival instinct.

To run and hide.

He ran when their father died. He slept on a friends sofa for over a week and skipped school. He stayed out of contact with everyone from his family. He ran when his grandfather died. He went on a trip with his mates to the other side of the country for over a month. And he ran when his mother fell ill. He went to the other side of the world to work.

So why, after all his experience in running and half his brain telling him, was he not running now?

He felt guilty thinking about his brother. He felt guilty thinking about leaving his brother. He  _didn't_ feel guilty when he was drinking. He didn't feel guilty because soon, he wouldn't remember what he felt guilty for. He wasn't sure whether that was the right thing to do, and he wasn't sure whether he should really be drinking, but it hasn't had a negative effect before and it was always effective in making him suppress all the horrible feelings.

He took another gulp of beer, noticing his phone vibrating on the coffee table. He looked at it and sighed, knowing he'd just become comfortable. In a vein attempt to keep that comfort, he extended his leg and tried to pick up his phone between his toes. Then he realised he had sock on. So he rolled his eyes and reached to pick it up the phone, putting down the remote control just before. This way he could still keep hold of his beer.

"Hello?" he asked tiredly, leaning back again and noting he wasn't quite as comfortable anymore.

"Hello, Cal. It's Dr McKay."

Cal sat up quickly, back clicking as he did so. "What's happened? What's wrong?" he questioned frantically, wishing he'd turned the television sound down.

"Nothing is wrong, as such, Cal. I'd just like to speak to you," Dr McKay said calmly.

Cal collapsed back on the sofa, wishing Dr McKay would just leave him alone. If nothing was wrong, there was no need to call. Simple. "Then speak."

"At the hospital. I'd like to speak to you at the hospital. I noticed you weren't there - at least not anywhere I looked. Hence why I called."

Cal groaned. The last thing he needed was Dr McKay being his conscience, he already had one of those. "I needed to come home to get a few things for Ethan and me, that's all," he lied.

"So you're coming back soon?" He could practically hear Dr McKay's eyebrows raise. "You've collected the things?"

Cal threw his head back and shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't. He just couldn't. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there."

"When can I expect you?"

"Soon," Cal said with a little more force than he intended.

He heard Dr McKay sigh. "Okay, alright. I'll see you soon."

Cal hung up, not even bothering to say 'bye'. Now he had another thing to feel guilty for. He realised quite quickly after the end of the call that Dr McKay would probably be waiting for him. That would take up his time and he could be away from an emergency on the ward. And if Ethan was the emergency then he would be responsible for holding him up. Oh God, he couldn't hurt Ethan. Not again.

His hand hovered over the redial button. He had to tell Dr McKay he couldn't go, that way he wouldn't be waiting. He wouldn't go looking for him (again) and he could focus on the patients. Focus on Ethan. But then he'd get suspicious. Cal spent every second he could sitting by Ethan before, and now he was too much of a coward to even be in the same hospital as him while he was recovering. It was almost as if it was easier when Ethan was barely alive. Cal wouldn't have to be there while Ethan was suffering physically and mentally. But he would have to be there now and he wasn't strong enough.

His shaking finger pressed redial and he held the phone to his ear - taking a gulp of beer for the nerves. Dr McKay picked up almost straight away.

"Cal," he greeted.

"Erm, hi. I just rang to say that I can't come in after all." He held his breath, waiting for a response and hoping Dr McKay wouldn't ask any questions about it.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, and Cal could hear the skepticism in his voice.

Cal knew he should have planned this out and was biting his lip so hard it almost bled. "Well, not exactly. I've run out of petrol, you see."

"What about if you walk?"

"I don't live that closely," Cal said, even though it wouldn't take more than half-an-hour or forty-five minutes, and Cal would have happily done that before Ethan woke.

"How closely do you live?"

"Well, I can't walk," he persisted. "I have to bring some stuff for Ethan as I mentioned before, and I can't carry it all."

"How much is there?"

"Just some stuff," he said frustratedly, becoming annoyed with Dr McKay. He couldn't give him specifics, there was no stuff. He hadn't even thought about it.

"Can't you get a bus, then?" he said instantly.

Cal wanted to slam his beer bottle down. He really didn't want there to be a solution that Dr McKay could come up with that he couldn't think of a lie to avoid. "There isn't one for over an hour."

"What about a taxi?"

"I'm skint." He doubted Dr McKay believed that, but it was worth a try.

"I can pay."

"No, no. I can't allow that," he said, even though he would always be more than happy for someone else to pay for a taxi.

"So how will you get here?" Dr McKay said, and Cal wanted to just hang up and get away from his determination. But that would arouse suspicion.

"I'll, er, take the bus when it comes."

"Well, I'd like to speak to you as soon as possible, Cal."

"Can't you just speak to me over the phone?"

"It's not ideal, but I don't really want to wait until you come here considering it'll take a while before you arrive."

"It's fine, I'm all ears now."

"Well earlier, although not reacting to a command, Ethan started to move. We're unsure whether it was conscious movement or not - but it's a good sign. We're hoping to see move improvement now, and maybe get him to respond to commands… Cal, you still there?"

Cal breathed out. "Yeah, yeah. I'm still here."

He heard Dr McKay hesitate. "I'd really like to discuss this further, Caleb. And I need you to be  _here_." He paused. "So does your brother, Caleb. Ethan needs you."

Cal felt his guilt soar to record proportions.

"I'll see you soon, then?" Dr McKay confirmed.

"Yes. Soon," he promised, taking a sip of beer to help with the pain of lying about going to be with his brother. He was just about to hang up as Dr McKay's voice came through the phone again.

"Oh, and Caleb?"

"Hm?"

"Don't miss the bus, please."

"I won't. I promise. See you soon," Cal said, hanging up.

He sighed and lent back against the sofa, closing his eyes and taking a large gulp of beer - finishing the bottle. He practically threw it to the table and heard it smash, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Ethan would tell him off and set about cleaning the up the glass. But Ethan wasn't here and he might not ever do that again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter mainly based around my own character. I can understand it can be difficult as I picture him in my head but you will always see him slightly differently. I hope it's not annoying or frustrating not having actual Casualty characters all the time. Please tell me if you would prefer less of Dr McKay or his viewpoint and I'll cut down on him. Also thank you for your continued support on this story so far, I really do appreciate it. I hope you continue to enjoy this. Also sorry for how short this is, it just felt like the right time to end the chapter with the right content.

Dr McKay watched as the previously white screen turned black, and thought bitterly of how it represented his conversation with Caleb Knight. In the end, Cal had just shut down and switched off, and he wondered whether he would actually see Cal for a while. If the, frankly pitiful, excuses weren't enough to stir up worry for young Caleb, then the lack of seeing him around definitely would. He'd barely left Ethan's side before and now he was staying at home and not getting a quicker method of travel to the hospital.

If Dr McKay didn't know any better, it looked just like the situation became too much to handle for a relative. Yet, he did know better. Usually a relative would run when the patient was in a critical condition or an unknown condition. So why was Cal running when Ethan was slowly recovering?

He considered calling him back but soon thought better of it. He'd give Cal another hour or so and if he wasn't in the hospital then he would call him. Or get one of his friends (providing they weren't on shift, of course) to pop to his house and check nothing was wrong. They were the only solutions he could think of.

* * *

Dr McKay slowly entered Ethan's room. The young man lying there on the bed was the only man on the ward he'd had a previous connection with. It didn't change the way he treated him or anyone else, but it made everything he did more precious. That was one of the great things about his job. Although some people unfortunately didn't make it or didn't get better, he always grew attached to the patient. He spent time with them or their families and everyone was special. But Ethan wasn't just special.

Dr McKay knew him before he was attacked. Not that he saw Ethan often, but when he did he would always smile at Ethan's smile. The bright registrar bared some similarities to his brother. One being his ability to bring that slight bit of joy… hope even… to ITU when he passed by.

But he'd watched Ethan lie there, day in and day out for a couple of months. And although the hope was still there, it was buried deep inside of him.

One thing he'd learnt on ITU: hoping doesn't cure people.

He watched Ethan for any sign of movement, eyes intently fixed on his face, then his arms, his fingers, his legs, his toes… anything. They were going to run more tests later on but for now, all he could do was watch and wait. He'd learnt to be quite patient over the years, but sometimes he just wished  _something_  would happen.

He was about to walk back out when his eyes caught sight of something unusual. It was almost hidden underneath the bed. He slowly bent down (hearing the chilling sound of his knees clicking: he'd never liked that sound) and reached out his hand. His fingers curled around an object that was quite fluffy. He stood up and gazed curiously at it, realising it was a small teddy bear - looking really quite small when sitting in the palm of his hand.

As he turned it over, he smiled. 'Honey' was the name on the heart the bear was holding, and he immediately knew what it was. Honey was Ethan's girlfriend, and this was what Ethan went to get on the day he was stabbed. He sighed sadly and placed the small toy on the table at the end of the bed.

Nothing would happen with Ethan. Not yet, not today, not right in that present moment. What happened earlier was a muscle reaction that wasn't expected to happen again. Dr McKay decided to leave and come back later, adding that to the list of what he needs to do - right under calling Cal again.

He took slow steps as he exited the room, almost expecting something to happen.

It didn't.

* * *

Underwater. It was the same feeling. Everything was slow and felt slow and he didn't know what was happening and he was scared. He wanted to do something or say something but he didn't know what or… or how.

He felt himself going deeper once more and allowed himself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The door opened suddenly and Connie walked in, smiling and walking over to Ethan's right-hand side. Dr McKay wasn't expecting hee but appreciated her coming. Ethan needed people right now.

"How's he doing?"

Dr McKay shrugged. "Sleeping. It's expected so… you know."

"Do you know anything more about his condition?" she asked, picking up the small bear from the table and looking at it curiously, smiling as she read the text on the heart.

"Not yet. It's difficult to tell," he said. "As you know," he added in quickly, worried he was being too patronising. Connie, thankfully, didn't seem to notice. "Just a waiting game for now."

"And Caleb?" she enquired, placing the bear back down and instead opting for Ethan's notes.

"Caleb is… well I don't actually know how he is." He'd nearly forgotten about his intention to either call or send someone to Cal. He'd do it soon.

Connie looked up from the notes and her eyebrows raised in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"He 'popped' home and hasn't been back. I know it's not been long since we last spoke to him, but he seemed like he was avoiding coming here," he mentioned. "I spoke to him on the phone," Dr McKay clarified.

"We spoke to him, what? Four hours ago? Five? He'll be here. He's probably got unavoidable things to attend to."

"Yes, but four or five hours for him was like a week. When Ethan was still in a coma, I mean you know what he was like. Now he just… it's like he's thinking up any excuse to get away."

"That doesn't seem like Cal. Not one bit! Are you sure he's not just held up? It happens," she suggested, obviously either completely oblivious to it or opting to ignore it.

Dr McKay sighed. "We'll see."


	5. Chapter 5

_Ethan giggled. "You can't c-catch me!" he boasted, running around the coffee table. A beaming smile was plastered on his face and his bright blue eyes sparkled. "I'm f-faster than a… a hare!"_

_Caleb laughed as he chased him. "That makes me a tiger!"_

_The camera shook as Ethan ran past, almost knocking into his mother. "Be careful now, boys," she warned, though one could tell from her voice that she was just as joyful as her sons._

_"You c-can't be a tiger!" countered Ethan. "If you are, then you're v-very slow!" he said, not letting his stutter bother him._

_A deep man's voice was heard from the side of the camera. "Be careful, Ethan. Tigers eat hares."_

_Ethan stopped momentarily, laughing too hard to continue running. Caleb, being the big brother he was, stopped too_ _—_ _allowing time for Ethan to compose himself adequately enough._

_When he'd calmed down enough to complete a full sentence, he finally said, "Well then I'm g-g-going to change history and eat you b-back!"_

_Caleb realised where it was going and started to run in the opposite direction, running from Ethan as he chased him. They ended up in the kitchen. The camera swiveled around to keep them in frame but their parents hung back._

_"It's good to see them playing," Matilda whispered to her husband._

_"Makes a change," he said. "Especially without that bloody nickname."_

_Matilda sighed. "Oh, shush, Michael. He's just having a bit of fun. You know what kids are like, and you know what our Caleb is like."_

_"It had Ethan in tears the other d —"_

_"Nibbles! I'm coming to get you now!" Caleb teased, returning to chase Ethan again._

_"How was work?" she asked before her husband could make a mention of the nickname again._

_"Normal. Oh, and before I forget, I had a chat to the speech therapist. Said she could see Ethan this Friday," he informed Matilda._

_A thump disrupted their conversation and the camera shook as Matilda and Michael ran to their sons. Ethan started crying, clutching his knee in pain._

_"Oh, Ethan. What happened, my boy?" Michael asked softly, prising Ethan's hands away from his knee as he started to examine it — only being in the corner of the screen as Matilda had put the camera down._

_"I-I-I fell!" he screamed, tears rapidly falling down his face. "D-Dad, it hurts!"_

_"Come here, Ethan." Cal grabbed his brother in a hug forceful enough to break his ribs, squeezing him tightly as he comforted him. He ran fingers through Ethan's blonde hair and shushed him while their father examined his knee._

_"That's going to be black and blue in a couple of hours, but it's not bad," Michael told Ethan after a few moments, though his voice was almost drowned out by the screams of pain._

_"Come on, Ethan. Be brave for me," Cal comforted._

The video cut off and Cal watched the black screen. In the tape recording, Ethan was only six. That made Cal eight. He didn't remember that day very well, after all, he was just a child. But he knew it had been a happy day. His father was home from work (a rare occurrence as he'd always said ' _Life in an emergency department is tough. I have to put unwell people's lives before my healthy family_ ', his mother and father were getting along well with no arguments, he and Ethan were laughing and playing and having fun (up until Ethan tripped, but he was almost certain they still had fun afterwards) and it was a happy family.

That was how it was meant to be. He protected Ethan when they were children. He protected him when he was hurt, he protected him when their Dad left, he protected him from the school bullies (despite the fact that he was sometimes a bully to Ethan, but that didn't count as he was Ethan's brother) and he made sure Ethan slept peacefully by comforting him when he awoke from bad dreams.

Now, instead of protecting him, he was sitting at home in his boxer shorts drinking beer. But it wasn't having the desired effect and he couldn't get the release and bliss of alcohol he so desperately desired. The images of Ethan laying there, all manner of tubes and machines surrounding him and connecting him to things keeping him alive, were haunting him. The memory of him getting too worked up and losing hope and giving up and effectively trying to  _kill_ his brother was one of the worst. It sounded mad to him now. He thought Ethan was going to die and he's given up on his own brother.

He'd  _given up_.

Cal vaguely registered his doorbell ringing but couldn't bring himself to answer it. It wasn't like he was dressed decently (though that wouldn't be a problem if there was a hot female outside, which was now just another thought worm that got inside his head like the thought he should get more beer) and whoever it was could come back another time. They couldn't be sure anyone was home, anyway.

It carried on and started to make Cal's head pound. Even though he knew it was impossible, it seemed to be getting louder and louder and  _louder_. "Agh, go away!" he shouted, knowing whoever it was wouldn't be able to hear him but needing to vocalise what he was thinking anyway.

His phone started ringing. He ignored it. It was probably Dr McKay. Cal didn't bother to look at the time but he knew he'd promised Dr McKay he would be there and it had certainly been longer than he'd said.

It carried on ringing and Cal leaned forward to switch it off, nearly catching his hand on the smashed up bottle. He really should clean that up… but he couldn't be bothered. The phone stopped ringing and he sighed, leaning back again and taking another swig of the bottle.

The doorbell rang again and again and again and his phone started ringing for the second time. "For God's sake!"

He angrily picked up his phone, having a near miss with the glass again, and pressed the answer button. "What?" he shouted angrily down the phone, feeling even more annoyed at the ringing doorbell continued.

"You okay, mate?" Max's voice said, and Cal quickly apologised, sitting up straighter. "Let me in, yeah?"

Cal looked towards the door and realised then it was Max. He wasn't giving up easily and, no doubt, he wouldn't stop bothering him. He didn't care what Max wanted. He was going to go to the door, tell him to go away, and resume what he was doing. He sighed in frustration and put the phone down, throwing on his discarded t-shirt and letting Max in — not expecting Lofty to be behind him.

They were checking up on him, it was obvious. And he was stood in his boxer shorts and a creased t-shirt, holding half a bottle of beer with the remnants of another beer bottle smashed on the table, beside yet more bottles — most empty. His tired brain was working overtime to think of something to get himself out of this mess, but all his emotions came bubbling to the surface. The pain and the hurt and the pure guilt of hurting his brother started to rise up after he'd so desperately tried pushing it back down again.

He wanted, he  _needed_ , to get rid of his friends, but all he came out with was, "I'm sorry," before he fell onto his knees and starting sobbing into his hands, not caring about the bottle he was holding falling and smashing right beside him.


	6. Chapter 6

Cal was sitting numbly on the sofa, his hands resting in his lap. It was weird, he realised. He felt disconnected from his surroundings. Almost as if he was not real — just a figment of a distorted reality. And the strangest thing was that he knew he was real, he knew that his odd feelings were the things that weren't real and were just tricking him, yet he couldn't stop thinking about this. He was real. Everything around him was real.

He watched, detached, as Max and Lofty cleared up the glass from around him and just made the general environment neater. The bottles were removed, the television control sat on the table straight, everything seemed cleaner and somehow more… human (if an environment was human), but it didn't help Cal or his detached reality. It was just more different. Ethan should be cleaning up after him, nagging him to do housework and eventually giving up. Ethan should be helping him as he fell apart, sitting by him and comforting him. And although he appreciated Max and Lofty, they weren't his brother. They would never match up.

With a sudden realisation, he stood up. He should be helping, not sitting around being useless. That's all he's been for the past couple of months. Useless. He couldn't even help his brother. He glanced around, but his knees became too weak to hold him and he sunk back down onto the sofa, leaning back and shutting his eyes tightly, desperately trying to remember the last time he felt even the tiniest bit normal. Then he sighed dejectedly. He hadn't done since Ethan was attacked. Just when he and Ethan were getting on well, just as they'd started to share the bond they had when they were children…

…then it all came crashing down.

He whacked his head against the back of the sofa, feeling tears slip down his cheeks, escaping from his eyes. He almost wished Ethan wasn't awake yet. Then he wouldn't be in pain, unable to do anything and facing a tough recovery, all because of Cal's incompetence and stupid, stupid actions.

Then he called himself a whole load of names ("language, Caleb" as Ethan would say) because Ethan was his little brother and he wanted more than anything for him to be well and alright. He was a terrible brother if he even thought about Ethan not waking up.

"Cal?" Max's voice cut through the fog of thoughts like a lightbulb, dragging him back to reality. Cal felt the sofa dip beside him, indicating either Max or Lofty had sat down. "Look, mate, we tidied up a bit," said Max to the left of him. "Can either of us do anything for you?"

Cal forced his eyes open and, with considerable effort, sat up almost straight. He glanced at Max, sitting beside him, and Lofty, who was hovering a couple of meters in front of him.

He shook his head, unable to do much more with his heavy body.

Cal noticed the long look Lofty gave Max. "What?" he groaned.

"W-what are you sorry for?" Lofty asked hesitantly.

"Huh?" he grunted.

Lofty was silent. He seemed to start to regret what he asked.

"You said you were sorry. What for?" Max said instead.

Cal tried to remember what they were talking about, which made his head hurt. There was a vague recollection, somewhere in the back of his mind, of him saying sorry to them when they first arrived. But that seemed like hours ago and he wasn't entirely sure it even happened.

"Doesn't matter," he said tiredly, leaning back against the sofa again. "Don't feel well."

Cal couldn't tell whether he felt ill because he'd had too much to drink or he hadn't had enough. It was probably the latter. He hadn't forgotten about Ethan yet, so it was definitely the latter.

Then the name calling at himself came again. He shouldn't be forgetting about Ethan. He should be sitting with Ethan, helping and supporting him. He should have been there from when he woke up. Then after Connie and Dr McKay had talked to him. Not run off an hour after Ethan had woken up because he was terrified and not avoided Ethan or any mention of him since.

He was such an awful brother.

"Mate," Max approached, drawing Cal out of his thoughts once again. "Do you want to lie down?"

Cal didn't bother opening his eyes again. "Want to drink 'till it doesn't hurt."

"We know." Lofty's voice was sad. "But it won't help. You'll end up with a hangover and feel worse."

He would have laughed had the happiness not been completely drained from his body. "Couldn't feel worse."

There was silence for a moment.

"How about you go and lie down, and we'll make you some lunch? Sound good?"

This time, he did open his eyes. "No. You need to work."

"Would you like to come with us? Y'know… come and see Ethan?"

Cal stood up so quickly it looked like he'd been burnt. "I'm… going to lie down." He rushed off into the hallway, breathing far too quickly. For a moment, he felt like he was going to be sick. Then it past and all he could do was let more tears fall. He dragged his feet as he walked in the direction of his bedroom, but before he could go into his, he turned and walked into Ethan's.

He collapsed onto the bed, snuggling up on top of the covers and closing his eyes, trying to imagine a world where everything was okay.

After all, nothing would ever be okay again.

* * *

It was her break, and Lily could finally get away from the busy ED and visit Ethan. It was the first time she'd seen him since he'd woken up, and was glad to see him off the ventilator. He looked… better, somehow. Healthier. She knew she was probably imagining things, but for once she could let her imagination run away with her.

She hesitantly brushed her fingers over his hand, willing herself to take her best friend's hand but not having the courage.

Wait. Did his fingers just twitch?

She looked closely, peering and watching and waiting… and…

_Please, Ethan. Please._

It happened again. Lily let herself smile in hope. "Ethan, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." She carefully placed her hand in Ethan's soft and limp one, waiting and hoping. She didn't know much on Ethan's current condition, but she didn't expect anything good so soon.

So she wasn't surprised when there was no response from Ethan.

Disappointed, she withdrew her hand and took a step back, letting her arm hang by her side. Lily sighed and watched her friend's regular breathing, drawing the slightest bit of comfort from it. She vaguely wondered where Cal was, but it didn't last long. He probably just popped off for a bit.

Lily jumped as the door opened, disturbing the silence (well, the silence that included hospital machine noises). She turned around and smiled as she saw Ethan's doctor walk in.

"Don't mind me," he said.

Lily stepped back further. "His fingers just twitched, on his right hand," she mentioned, feeling the need to tell him straight away. "But he didn't respond to my voice."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"How is he?" she asked, looking at his peaceful face.

He looked up from the notes he'd been studying. "Dr Chao, right?"

"Yes."

"He's… getting there," Dr McKay said, scribbling something down.

She smiled slightly, but wished desperately for the day when she and Ethan could both discuss complex medical research and patients together like they used to.

Like they used to… and might never do again.

As she mindlessly looked around the room, her eyes were drawn to a small, fluffy thing on the table at the end of the bed. Lily reached for it and picked up, what she now realised was, a small teddy. Recognising it instantly, she had to ask: "where was this found?"

He pointed to a spot on the floor with his pen, uninterested. "Just there."

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "She didn't even take it," Lily whispered to herself.

That caught Dr McKay's attention. "I'm sorry?"

Lily looked up from the teddy.

"Forgive me," he said. "I don't mean to pry."

She waved it off. "It's okay." Lily carefully placed the teddy back down, looking at it sadly. "Honey — you know Honey? — well, she just… left a few days ago." Lily couldn't help the disgust in her voice. Honey was the reason Ethan was outside in that area on his break. Ethan adored her; he thought the world of her. But when she found out what Ethan's recovery (if it was even a full recovery) would be like, she just left.  _Probably too much to handle for the coffee shop lady_ , she thought bitterly.

The few seconds of silence ended and Dr McKay's face fell. "For good?"

"For good," she confirmed.

Dr McKay gave a small sigh of sympathy. "Poor Ethan." He sadly looked at him.

Lily jumped as her pager beeped, and was glad Dr McKay hadn't seen her embarrassing reaction. "I'm sorry, I must get on."

She stole one last glance at her friend, wishing just something would happen because he needed to be okay. After all the fighting he did, he couldn't give up just when he could reach the end. Lily turned and started to walk out of the room, rushing to get back to her patient in resus.

But she wasn't far enough down the corridor to not hear Dr McKay's desperate shout.

"Can I get some help in here, please?!"


	7. Chapter 7

This was not good. This was as far away from good as one could be, and then even further than that. Dr McKay shouted again, fearing his first attempt of gaining help was unheard. Within seconds, a couple of nurses and a doctor rushed into the room but Dr McKay's resulting emotion wasn't relief. He couldn't feel relief until Ethan had settled. It was more hope. Hope for Ethan. Hope for his brother.

"He started seizing about 20 seconds ago," he informed them, and the other three frantically started helping. They (with little trouble due to how many times they have had to do this in their years in medicine) rolled Ethan onto his side, holding him — not roughly, though — and monitoring him.

"I'm reluctant to give him anything," he stated, out-of-breath just a little, partially overwhelmed by the thrashing movements.

"Pulse is high," one of the nurses said. "Resps are too…"

Dr McKay grimaced. "He doesn't seem to be coming out of this alone." He was opposed to the idea of administering any medicine to Ethan, but if he didn't come out of it alone he would have to. It still remained as the last option, though. He couldn't rule it out.

He silently gasped. "Okay, suction please," he said with a calmness he didn't feel. The second nurse handed it to him. He nodded his thanks and carefully worked, worry spiking because Ethan was throwing up. "We need a CT scan when he's recovered from this." Then he sighed, caving in once Ethan had (thankfully) stopped being sick. "Let's give him 5—"

The sentence died on his lips as he felt less movement coming from Ethan. The fitting was slowing and he was calming. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles and let himself believe that Ethan was still fighting.  _Fight for longer, Ethan. Please carry on fighting. For Cal. For everyone._

Eventually, Ethan's movements went still. His breathing evened out and his pulse lowered to within the normal range. Dr McKay, with help, maneuvered Ethan into the recovery position.

"Right, let's book that CT and try and get him fast-tracked. And I don't need to remind you to monitor him  _very_  closely. Nurse Daniels, please keep an eye on him while he's still postictal."

Dr McKay left the room silently, and tried (once again over the last few hours) to contact Cal.

He heard the ringing for so long, he started to fear Cal wasn't going to pick up. But hope filled him when the ringing stopped.

"Hello? Cal's phone, Max speaking."

"Ah, Max." Dr McKay was glad that Max and Lofty were at least still with Cal (unless something had happened which would cause Max to have Cal's phone and Cal wasn't there…). "It's Dr McKay. Is Cal there?"

He heard hesitation and then muttering. "Lofty's gone to get him." A pause. "Is everything okay?"

"I just need to speak to Cal," he said briefly.

He listened to the silence closely. He heard running footsteps and had to hold the phone away from his ear as someone fumbled around with it. Cal's panicked voice came through the phone. "What's wrong? What's happened? Is Ethan alright? Is he—"

"—Cal," he cut off. "You need to come back to the hospital."

There was heavy breathing. "I… uhm… I can't."

"Your brother needs you, Cal."

The next sound sounded very much like a sob. "Please," his voice cracked. "Just tell me. What's happened?"

While he was reluctant to give details over the phone, it was his only option right now. "I don't want you to worry, but Ethan's had a… a small seizure."

There was a thump as the phone hit the floor. He heard varying sounds before it went silent. Max's voice rang through. "He's gone. Said he was going to the hospital."

"You're… going to let him drive? In this state?" Dr McKay said, concerned.

"Lofty went after him, don't know if he was successful…" he trailed off and there was some more silence. "He wasn't. He just walked in. I'm sure Cal will be fine." Max's voice betrayed his words. He sounded just as worried as Dr McKay.

"Right then… thank you. For going to him. I never properly thanked you."

He could almost hear Max's smile. "Don't mention it. I… I hope Ethan's okay."

Dr McKay nodded to himself, praying he'd believe his own words. "He will be."

* * *

Cal ran out of the flat and sprinted down the stairs, almost tripping but not letting it phase him. Eventually, he reached his car. He climbed in as quickly as he could, started the engine, and drove off in record speed — doing his seatbelt up while he was driving.

Something was wrong with Ethan — something Cal probably caused. He owed it to his brother to be by him.

But the closer he drove to the hospital, the more he was thinking about turning back. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove into a side road. One he knew was quiet.

He couldn't do this. What was he thinking?

_That your brother — your little brother — is ill. That he needs you._

But what use would Cal be? All he would be able to do would be to watch him suffer, hold his hand as if everything was okay. He could do that when Ethan was still unconscious. He did it every day. He barely slept or ate or looked after himself. And he's doing the same things now. The only difference being that he wasn't by Ethan. Not now. He caused this. He didn't stab his brother. They didn't know who did. But he as good as killed him when he was recovering  _so well_. Actually, he did what he did because he lost hope, because Ethan wasn't recovering as well as Cal thought.

What an idiot. Ethan would call him an idiot too.  _Oh, Caleb,_  he would say.

Oh, Ethan…

Cal slammed his head against the steering wheel. Then again. And again. He stopped driving. He had caved in and stopped driving. He willed himself to start the engine, turn back and head to Holby. Or at least back to Ethan's and his flat and thank Max and Lofty for trying to help him. It was the least he could do for his brother.

His hand shook as he turned the key in the ignition.  _Get a grip_ , he told himself. With two steady hands, he grasped the steering wheel and changed the gear. There was a moment's hesitation before he did a U-Turn, and that was all he needed for the bad part of his brain to take hold, once and for all.

Cal didn't drive back. He drove on and on, further away from the flat, further away from the hospital and further away from the only person that mattered.


	8. Chapter 8

His logical brain said he should stop driving. His logical brain said he was over the limit and would be lucky not to cause an accident. His logical brain said to go back to his flat, or go to Ethan. Better still would be to park up on a side road, take note of where he was, leave his car and get a taxi back home. He shouldn't be driving, especially not while over the limit and especially not away from his brother.

But his logical brain was overruled by his illogical brain and all he wanted to do was drive and drive and drive until he couldn't. He thanked anyone who was listening for the fact he at least he had enough petrol for a while. His logical brain wasn't present when he left the flat (and not even for a while before that), and he'd left his wallet, phone and jumper behind. He was lucky he had a spare set of clothes in the back of his car (you never knew when your clothes would get ruined after all, and that was Ethan's reasoning that woke Cal's brain up to that truth… oh, Ethan) because he was stupid enough to leave the flat in a crumpled t-shirt and boxer shorts. His spare clothes didn't have a jumper with them so he'd cranked up the heat in his car, but apart from that he was stupidly driving away from everything that mattered without any means of getting in contact with anyone and without his wallet.

He wondered if he even had his driver's licence with him, or any form of ID. But it didn't matter. He wasn't speeding, he wouldn't get stopped and he wouldn't crash.

It surprised him, really, that he seemed to be driving well. Considering he was less than sober and over the limit, he couldn't have felt steadier. His hands weren't shaking, his feet were alert and pressing on all the right pedals, and he was completely focused on the road in front of him.

Not thinking about Ethan at all.

Nope. Not at all. Not one bit…

* * *

Cal had stopped driving. He was parked on the side of a road; there were no cars around (strange, he noted, but considering it was nearing night and it didn't seem to lead to anywhere important he didn't ponder about it more), so he wasn't causing any problems with any other drivers. He looked out over the drop, feeling his stomach jump a mile in the air and then sink, because he wondered how Ethan would react to this height. Not that it was… particularly high and Cal wasn't really scared...

Yet it was a long drop below so luckily there was a small barrier preventing a driver from death (maybe he was exaggerating just a little bit). But as he looked out of the front of his car, he watched the beautiful sunset, admiring the calmness and peacefulness in it. He'd always wondered how Ethan had found such joy and serenity in sunsets; it had always confused him because what was lovely about a burning ball of flame? But now he knew why. The colours, the clouds, the silhouettes of birds flying across the sky, the orange and pink and yellow and blue that all mixed together. Cal just stared at it. Taking it all in. It really was beautiful… and if only Ethan could be here to see it. He would love it so much. He would gaze at it just as much as Cal was now.

And maybe, one day, they could look at the sunset together.

But that day would never come… not now Ethan was… Ethan was…

Cal closed his eyes and hit head against the seat in a moment of anger, before blowing out a huge breath and leaning back, relaxing and staring at the sunset once again. The engine was still running to keep the heat going and keep Cal warm, but he knew he'd have to turn it off eventually.

While he was seriously considering just staying in his car for as long as he could, he had no food or water, no means to get any… and if his petrol ran out he would not have any way of getting back.

He didn't even know where he was.

But then the logical side of his brain finally took hold and told him to keep driving until he reached a town. It didn't matter that he was exhausted, probably still drunk, felt nauseous and didn't know where the nearest town  _was_ , but he needed to find out where he was and get back. Back to his flat, back to the hospital, back to his ill little brother. The guilt still gnawed away at him, and it had only been a few days since Ethan had woken, but this was his little brother.

 _His_ little brother that he could have well killed or damaged his brain and might as well have been the one who attacked him in the first place.

"Agghh," he moaned, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He banged his head against the seat a couple more times, raging at himself for being so  _stupid, stupid, stupid_!

That didn't change the fact he didn't know where he was or which direction to go in. He didn't even have any sense of the direction he came in apart from the fact his car was facing the direction he had been travelling in before he stopped. And it did worry him, which was yet another emotion to add on top of the large pile already.

But maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe his current state was responsible for his lack of memory about where he was, but he didn't care enough to put more thought into it.

Without a second thought, only focused on his one goal to go to a town, he put the handbrake down, put his car into gear and started to drive off. It was a short stretch of road before he had to turn a sharp corner, and he hastily put his lights on when he noticed it getting dark quickly and he'd failed to notice they weren't on.

But as he turned the corner, the one thing he wasn't expecting was a tree right in front of him.


	9. Chapter 9

_Friday, 04 September 2015_

He grasped the wheel tighter and turned it furiously, spinning the car around. He screwed his eyes shut; awaiting the moment the car hit the fallen tree. The tyres screeched along the road. He felt his heart-rate increase to dangerous levels. But his reaction wasn't quick enough.

He felt the impact.

He felt nothing.

* * *

"Unknown male, crashed into the fallen tree on the highway," Liam stated, wheeling their patient through the doors. "It wasn't blocked off properly; he must have missed the signs. We have no idea how long he was there for, but his smashed car was found with him inside it. He was unconscious upon being found and hasn't regained it since. Definite smell of alcohol on him, but no ID. No driver's license, no wallet, no phone. The police are going to search his car for his license, but it's pretty smashed at the front."

"Bay 1, please," Dr Miller instructed them.

"He has a head laceration on his right side, bleeding stopped with pressure. Possible fractured shoulder, but apart from that, a few scratches. Considering the state of his car, he got lucky. His GCS is 3, it hasn't changed. Head and neck stabilised at scene and we ventilated at the scene, his SATs were 85% and resps were 14. SATs improved to 90% en route. He was cold to the touch so we've tried to warm him up, and it's been successful. Pulse is slow at 50 and BP is 90/60."

"Okay, thanks, guys." Dr Miller looked down at the man; having the feeling she'd seen him before. She couldn't place her finger on it, though, and continued to treat him.

"Let's get an urgent head and neck CT to see what we're dealing with, and then let's get an x-ray of that shoulder. Nurse Tracks, please see to his other wounds. Can I have bloods please; blood alcohol content, drugs, full blood count, blood sugar levels, let's get a group and save – and an MRI to see if there's any internal bleeding – um, clotting too, and let's get LFTs."

* * *

They continued to treat him, and luckily his condition wasn't as serious as they first feared. He was taken off the ventilator and his CT was clear. His shoulder wasn't fractured but badly bruised and sprained – so he had to wear a sling. He had no internal bleeding and none of his other injuries were that serious. He'd been a lucky man. His blood alcohol content was lower than the legal limit so he wasn't drink-driving (or at least he'd metabolised a lot of it and was drunk-driving and very drunk earlier) and there were no drugs in his system.

They were, however, considering the possibility this unknown man was suicidal. No ID, driving at night along a road which (should have had better signposting and barriers) had a fallen tree on it, possibly very drunk and he had driven  _right_ into the tree from what she was told. They were still waiting for the police in case they found some ID as the unknown man hadn't woken up since the paramedics had found him.

And Dr Miller still thought she recognised him, especially now the blood was cleaned off his face. The man was still unconscious and they were playing the waiting game now. They just had to keep monitoring him and making sure he stayed stable.

* * *

"Nothing?"

Max and Lofty shook their heads in unison. "Nothing."

They'd driven around, trying to find Cal. He hadn't driven to the hospital, he hadn't driven to any local pubs and he wasn't on a side-street somewhere. He'd run off without his phone so they had no way of contacting him. It was past 2am and they were becoming very worried about him, especially because of his highly emotional state and all the alcohol he'd consumed.

They'd gone to Connie when they became desperate, fearing her reaction and being surprised when she was so understanding. She'd helped as much as she could without getting the police involved, but it was fast becoming their only option left.

"Look, I hate to say this," Lofty started, staring at his feet as if he was terrified of his next words, "but maybe it'd be wise to call around all the hospitals in a close radius to us. There are a few, and if he drove far away and something happened, he wouldn't be taken here."

"No. He's not in hospital," Max stated.

Connie looked at Lofty and nodded her head, before looking seriously at Max. "We can't rule anything out, Max. It's very possible he drove far enough away to, if something did happen to him, be taken somewhere else."

Max tried to compose himself, but the thought of his friend alone in hospital, in any type of condition, made his heart clench. He wasn't one for showing a lot of emotion towards his mates, but Cal was hurting. And they needed to find him and support him.

"Okay. Okay." He breathed out heavily. "Ring around. But I hope to anyone who's listening that, while I want to find him, he isn't at hospital."

"We all do, Max," Connie said in sympathy. "We all do," she muttered to herself, having a soft spot for Cal (that she wouldn't admit to, obviously).

* * *

"Caleb Knight," Dr Miller said thoughtfully, reading off the recovered driver's licence. "Caleb Knight."

"Is there a problem, Sarah?" PC Miller asked his wife.

"Caleb Knight... of course! I knew I recognised him! He's Dr Caleb 'call me Cal' Knight!" Upon seeing his confused look, she elaborated. "Sometimes he'd come with the paramedics to transfer patients here, I recognised him because he tried to -" she laughed "- he tried to flirt with me."

PC Miller adopted a protective look.

"Oh, don't worry, I shot him down immediately." She looked at Cal. "What's happened to him, then?" she asked rhetorically, wondering why a man like Cal would try (as they speculated) to kill himself. "Thank you, um, PC Miller."

He nodded and touched her hand lightly, before heading back to his own work, while Dr Miller set about finding Cal's records.

* * *

She rang multiple times, but each time it just went to voicemail straight away. His next of kin was only listed as his brother, Ethan Hardy, and it seemed like something had happened to his phone. Considering she hadn't seen Cal transferring a patient in ages, she wondered whether he could have moved on from the ED. But she had to try, and so rang the ED's reception.

* * *

"Holby ED reception, how can I help you?"

"Hello, it's Dr Miller from St James' Hospital Emergency Department. I was wondering if I could speak to your clinical lead?"

"Um, this is a bit out of the blue... I'm afraid you'll have to make an appointment."

Dr Miller sighed, "This can't wait, actually. It's about someone I believe is a doctor at your ED."

There was a pause and a distant voice. Dr Miller had to hold the phone away from her ear as it sounded like it was being passed over. The loud noise stopped and a female voice spoke.

"Connie Beauchamp, clinical lead," she introduced herself.

"Connie!" Dr Miller said, surprised. Last time she'd spoken to her was when she was a cardiothoracic surgeon on Darwin ward in Holby City, and she'd come to St James' to talk about her area of expertise. "Sorry, yes. It's Dr Sarah Miller here... from St James'."

Recognition entered Connie's voice. "Oh, hello. What can I do for you? I'm afraid I am rather busy at the moment so I can't talk for long."

"Well, we have someone as a patient here that used to work in your ED. We can't contact his next of kin and I wasn't sure whether he still worked in the ED."

There was silence on Connie's end, before her (unusually small) voice said, "go on."

"Caleb Knight."

"Yes, um... is he okay? He's been missing for a few hours, you see."

Dr Miller spoke apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much due to patient confidentiality. As I mentioned, I can't get in contact with his brother, Ethan Hardy."

"Well, that's because he's on ITU and has been for a few months," Connie said bitterly. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm worried about Cal. He can be a nuisance sometimes but... he's a good man."

"No other family?"

"I'm afraid not. Those two brothers have only got each other, and us of course."

Dr Miller thought for a moment. "In that case, we need to discuss what happened with your doctor."

* * *

"I just received a call from St James'," Connie said as she shut her office door behind her and sat down with Max and Lofty.

"He's not...?" Max questioned worriedly.

"Yes, he  _is_ at St James'," Connie said seriously. "He's been in a car accident."


	10. Chapter 10

He was underwater again, but he also wasn't. He was almost certain he knew what underwater felt like and this wasn't it. Well it was, just minus the water part. And the drowning part.

There was this once voice that always cut through the water-not-water haze around him, and this time he could understand it somewhat. Odd words floated around him and he vaguely registered what the words meant.

A warm hand held his own and he obediently did what the voice asked. He tried so hard to command his hand to squeeze the other and the light voice that came from that indicated he had done it.

Through his blurry vision he noticed a face. A finger appeared before him and - although it hurt his head - he watched as the finger moved from side to side, up and down. He tracked it before it disappeared. He felt a warm hand on his head and heard some more soft sounds, before he was too tired to focus anymore.

Ethan drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"They're considering the possibility that… he drove into the tree deliberately," Connie said carefully, still trying to digest it herself.

Max stopped his pacing, looking at her with wide eyes. "No. Not Cal. He wouldn't. He wouldn't leave Ethan. No way."

"Maybe," Lofty said, folding his arms, "he did."

Max spun around with a look of sheer disbelief etched on his face.

"What I mean is... he wasn't exactly sober when we arrived and it was late at night and he'd just been told Ethan had a seizure. On top of everything that's happened, maybe... maybe he just... couldn't handle it."

"No, let's not jump to any conclusions. He hasn't woken up yet so they don't know. They're only making this assumption because the road was blocked off. Cal shouldn't have even been there."

"He wouldn't leave Ethan," Max repeated. "He probably just... got lost or something."

Connie sighed. "Look, he's going to be discharged once he wakes up and has a few more tests, but be shouldn't be alone for at least the next 24 hours. Lofty, Charlie said he can spare you so... if it's alright with you?"

"Yeah. Yeah of course."

"Great thanks. Also, would you mind - on the way back - bringing him here first? I'd like a word with him."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Connie's phone. She stared at the name - Dr McKay. And shd had a feeling it was going to be about Ethan.

* * *

The first thing Cal noticed was the blinding headache he was experiencing. The second thing was his throat, sore and roar. The third was someone talking to him. He wondered whether he was in his own bed: headache and a sore throat and a soft voice was usually a sign of a very good night of socialising, in more ways than one. But then he realised the sheets beneath him were scratchy and the soft voice was a man whispering to him.

He chanced a look, suddenly scared of where he was and where he'd woken up. He cracked his eyes open a bit and jumped with force as a face appeared before his. That jarred his shoulder and his head and when he opened his eyes fully he realised he wasn't in an awful situation as previously feared, but rather under the blinding lights and sheets of a hospital. It was Lofty's face over him, the light catching on his friend's curls and creating a halo of light around his head (which could indicate an angel coming to him on his death bed, but that face was definitely Lofty's and he'd seen that smile hundreds of times). Then as the initial curiousity (and fear he would only admit to himself) subsided, he was struck with panic.

"Lofty?" he groaned.

"It's good to see you awake."

"Why am I in hospital?" The question scratched his throat and he asked for some water straight after. Lofty helped him take a sip from a glass he realised was on the table next to him before explaining that he'd crashed his car.

"Oh." Cal looked up at the ceiling, embarrassed that he'd ended up in this situation. He was sure Lofty was meant to be on shift later on which meant he had been given leave to come to him, which meant Charlie had to know which meant it wasn't a secret that he'd ended up in St. James'.

"Mate, I know it's a… sensitive topic but, you know, they think you may have drove into that tree on purpose."

"What?" Cal shouted. He reigned himself in, mindful of other patients around him. "I didn't, I swear I didn't, Lofty. I wouldn't leave him I promise."

Lofty held his hands up as if he was approaching a small animal. "It's okay, Cal. Calm down."

"I didn't try and kill myself. I swear."

"I believe you, it's okay. You know that road was meant to be blocked off, right?"

Cal scrunched his eyes up, trying to picture the road he crashed on. "Was it?"

"Yeah… but I wouldn't worry, apparently it was badly blocked off."

Cal gave up trying to picture it, his memory was fuzzy around that time. He sighed. "I might have been drunk."

"I know. You drove off in a bit of a state, worried us sick, you know." Lofty raised his eyebrows. "Don't ever do that again."

Cal considered telling Lofty he wouldn't, considered putting his friend's mind at rest, but although his brain formed a sentence his mouth couldn't produce the sounds. The truth was he didn't know whether he'd do it again. Not while sober anyway, and he wasn't planning on staying sober for much longer.

Cal could tell by the way Lofty hesitated that he has picked his words carefully. "I thought you were heading off to see Ethan. Stupid while drunk, of course. You should have waited, Max or I would've taken you."

He felt his heart clench painfully at the mention of his brother, his  _brother_ , who he had failed to see. "I'm a coward, Lofty." He turned away to save himself from seeing what he only guessed would be agreement on Lofty's face. "I wasn't thinking straight and I wanted to see Ethan, but I backed out. I drove away. I can't, I can't see him. Not when he's... I  _can't_."

"Oh, mate."

"One of Ethan's favourite things is the sunset. I sat and watched it. I don't remember much after that, but I remember the colours. Ethan would have loved that sunset."

"Look at me, Cal," Lofty said gently, and Cal turned his head - preparing to see disgust or pity but instead seeing sympathy. "Ethan will be okay. He's alive and slowly responding."

"He had a seizure, Lofty!" Cal burst out, immediately regretting it as it jarred his painful head.

"And before I left Mrs Beauchamp told me that he responded to some commands. He will be okay, mate. You've seen patients just like your brother... no, let me finish, Cal. Yes, a lot of the time progress only goes so far and I won't lie to you, Ethan's recovery will be hard and may not be a full one, but - Cal - he needs you and you need him." Lofty paused, smiling weakly. "And one day, you can watch the sunset together."

Cal sighed once more and turned his head away from Lofty. The conversation was over.

* * *

The police he had to talk to were grating and the tests were boring, but he had now been pronounced fit to go home so long as he wasn't alone for 24 hours. That meant he would have Lofty's wonderful company for longer and no doubt he'd try and pursuade him to see Ethan. He wanted to, he really did.

But at the same time, he couldn't. He wasn't as strong as Ethan. He was a coward.

He tried to keep his eyes open in the taxi, but he kept finding he'd open his eyes and wonder when he'd shut them. He didn't even realise they weren't heading to his and Ethan's flat until they were outside the ED entrance.

"Lofty," Cal said. "What the hell is going on?"

"Ah, yes. Well. Connie wants to speak to you."

"No."

Lofty undid his seatbelt and turned his full body to face Cal. "I'm sure it won't take long. Come on."

Cal thought of himself much like a petulant child and it reminded him of a younger version of Ethan. "No."

"Well we aren't leaving until you speak to her and you can't go home without me."

"I can. I don't care."

"Well it's either see Connie now or face her when she's had time to get angry with you. Your choice."

It turns out it much harder undoing a seatbelt with an arm in a sling than it is putting one on, and Cal was thoroughly annoyed he learnt that outside the ED rather than in front of his flat.

* * *

While he couldn't express it considering he was still in the presence of Connie, he was  _very_ glad when she finally said he could go. He'd barely listened to her while she spoke about something to do with his accident and safety while in comparison he'd listeed intently while she spoke about Ethan.

Of course Cal was happy that Ethan was making progress (he didn't think he'd have to justify and tell Connie that, of  _course_  Cal was happy) but it terrified him that his little brother was even in this position that may have been amplified by Cal. And as heartless as it was, Cal almost wished Ethan hadn't have woken up. Then Ethan wouldn't be in pain and be struggling and have to face this recovery process.

But at least Ethan was still making progress after his seizure (of which they hadn't determined the cause, apparently. Cal had to hold back from reminding her that they are doctors and should know.)

Unfortunately, in the listening period, Connie had tried to pursuade him to see Ethan. To talk to him. To help Ethan hear his big brother's voice.

And it was that which made Cal walk out of the office and go straight to ITU. But when he got there, palm on the door handle, he froze.

"He needs you, Cal. He really needs his brother," Lofty said from behind him.

Cal stared through the window of Ethan's room, saddened to see Ethan lying there looking so...  _ill_  and, and  _helpless_. He was connected to nasal oxygen and sleeping somewhat peacefully. A rush of guilt flooded him as he remembered the part he played in this.

And just like that, his whole body started to tremble. His hand dropped from the door and he backed away into the wall behind him. His shoulder hit it but he felt no pain.

At least no physical pain.

He'd sat by Ethan's side for two months waiting for this moment, and it had finally come and Cal couldn't even step into the room. Ethan would be disappointed in him. So, so disappointed in him. If their positions were reversed, Cal knew that Ethan would not only do what Cal did for the first two months, but would also be there right now. He wouldn't get drunk and he wouldn't back out of seeing him and he wouldn't be scared to enter the room.

Ethan was so much better than him and it hurt that the better brother got hurt. The better brother was the one with suspected brain damage.

The better brother, by far, was Ethan.

"Take me home, Lofty," Cal said, dragging his eyes from his little,  _better_ brother. "Please."

The trembling didn't stop until he was at home, lying in his bed, wishing Ethan was beside him.


	11. Chapter 11

_Monday, 07 September 2015_

Cal woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He couldn't quite identify the sound at first, having only managed to get to sleep four hours ago and so he was still very tired, but when he did he groaned loudly and wondered what the hell the person wanted.

He rolled over and grabbed his phone, swiping to answer the call. "What?"

"Dr Knight."

"Connie," he shrieked, sitting up in his bed and severely regretting his greeting. He cleared his sleep-ridden throat. "Mrs Beauchamp."

"I know it's short notice and you're technically not working at the moment but we're short staffed and having trouble getting locums in. There's a major incident and we could do with some extra hands."

Cal curled his toes and clenched his teeth, blowing out a breath in between them. He did his best to sound happy and ready for it but his mind was still slightly foggy from sleep and he was anything  _but_ happy and ready for it. "Or course. I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up before listening to Connie's response, knowing that he shouldn't have done but not really caring.

He'd spent, since the accident, the best part of the time sleeping. And if he wasn't sleeping he was watching awful boxsets and trying to get his mind off Ethan. Max and Lofty popped round (Cal wondered if he'd have to spell it out for them: he wantefd to b E) and cleaned his flat and made him a couple of dinners - though Lofty cooked, no-one trusted Max to - and eventually left him again.

The only person he wanted company from was Ethan and the only way he'd get that would be to see the damage he had caused and the face of his ill little brother who he had let down.

But now, maybe now he could start to make up for it. After all, he was a doctor. And doctors save lives.

* * *

Dr McKay smiled at Ethan, who was looking at him through half-lidded and tired-looking eyes. "Hello, Ethan."

Ethan, as expected, made little response. He was sat up slightly, his bed having been lifted a while ago. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but nothing happened.

"Do you think you recognise me?" He knew it was touch and go with Ethan's memory. They hoped that he had suffered little brain damage but everyone knew that at least  _some_ damage had been done. Now it was just a case of working out what and how they could adapt to it.

Dr McKay waited patiently for any reaponse from Ethan, hoping he was aware enough to understand. A small nod downwards, while a tiny gesture, filled Dr McKay with hope.

Ethan was responding.

* * *

Cal was determined to save this patient. The "major incident" Connie had informed him of on the phone really  _was_ major. A tow-truck (Cal couldn't help thinking of how ironic that was) and a delivery van had collided on the slippery and wet motorway, and what ensued from that was nothing short of carnage. There had been no reported deaths yet, and Cal was not going to make his patient the first.

She was only 24 years old, having been driving to work at the time. Her name was Stephanie Potter and before she had deteriorated, she had informed them that her father and little sister had died only four months prior and it was just her mother left.

And that she was scared of dying.

Cal's own heart nearly stopped beating when Stephanie's did, a mere minute after confessing how terrified she was. Cal was not going to let her die, was not going to let her mother suffer even more. He had not lost Ethan but he had come pretty close, and he had lost family in the past. He knew damn well too much about how it felt to lose the people closest to you. This family would not be ripped apart further, not on Cal's watch.

And so here he was, slicing into a 24-year-old's chest to save her life, to get her young heart beating again. Two hours ago, she was driving to her job. Now she was lying, as good as dead, on a hospital bed.

* * *

"Are you going to treat anymore patients today, Doctor Knight, or are you going to spend your entire shift watching over this one?"

Cal turned around from monitoring Stephanie (who they had thankfully got breathing and alive again and were now waiting for a bed on ICU) and looked directly into the eyes of his boss. Uncaring of what could come out of this - he'd had an awful day and that was if you ignore the constant questions about his wellbeing and Ethan's condition and sympathetic glances - he simply said, "oh, I'm sorry for caring about my patient. You should try it sometime, I believe it's called having a heart."

And it mildly amused Cal to see Connie crack a smile. "What?"

"It's good to have you back, Cal."

He huffed and turned to Stephanie's monitors, making sure she was still stable.

"And if you're up for it," Connie said behind him, "you can come back to work part, or even full time."

"Of course."  _Anything to take my mind off Ethan, and maybe even mend and save other people's lives considering I was so bad at doing it with my own brother._

... _I'm even spiteful in my own head._

* * *

Cal entered the relatives room. Stephanie's mother had arrived a while ago and until Cal had made sure that Stephanie had gone up to ICU, he had asked Noel to make sure her mother stayed in the relatives room. But now came the hard part.

"Mrs Potter." He held out his hand. "Cal."

Her cold one took his. "Elizabeth's fine. Please, tell me. How's Stephanie? No-one's telling me anything and all I know is she was in the accident on the motorway and -"

"Please take a seat, Elizabeth. Look -" he took a seat himself "- Stephanie was in a pretty bad way when she arrived here. Unfortunately there were some complications -

"Complications? What complications? Please I can't lose her too she's all I have."

"- but we managed to sort them out." He studied her face for long moment. She looked tired and worn down, like she was stuck in a constant pit of grief. "She will be okay, Elizabeth. It's just a matter of her body healing."

"So, where is she? Can I see her? I need to see my daughter."

"She's in our intensive care unit." He held his hands up to stall her interruption. "I know it sounds bad - and the doctors up there will be able to explaon it better than I ever will, but her body is in the healing process now. She was injured very badly but she  _will get better_. She's-she's going to need a lot of support though."

"Yes, of course. I love her to peices of couse I'll support her."

 _I love Ethan to peices too, doesn't make it any easier._ "Yes. Right. Um, you can see her now if you'd like... it's, um, on the third floor, past the -"

"I'm no good with directions," she said apologetically. "Can you, would you mind showing me?"

Cal, begrudgingly, agreed. He doubted all this woman needed was to be shown where it was and instead needed the company, reassurance even.

He just hoped they wouldn't pass the one person that Cal desperately wanted to see, because seeing Ethan and walking away was much worse than not seeing him at all. Not seeing the better brother lying there, when he should be in Cal's position, saving lives.


	12. Chapter 12

As it happened, to get to Stephanie they needed to pass Ethan. Elizabeth didn't give the room a second glance, of course she didn't, but Cal did. He had stared through the partially covered-with-blinds glass to where his ill little brother lay. And watching Elizabeth be so brave when faced with Stephanie in that condition, Cal found the ounce of courage he needed.

Palm on the door handle, he shakily pushed it open. The room was familiar to him; he had spent practically two months in it by Ethan's bedside. Yet now, without all the machinery keeping Ethan alive because he was unable to do it by himself, the room seemed strangely alien.

He slowly walked over to Ethan's side. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully, so Cal did his best not to disturb him. By habit, he glanced at the monitors that Ethan was attached to. They seemed normal. He looked at Ethan's chest, comforted in the knowledge that his baby brother was still breathing regularly. His face wasn't pale. The room was warm and Ethan's cheeks were slightly rosy. He looked so alive.

Tenderly he placed his hand on top of Ethan's. He was careful enough not to wake him, but to have that touch made it all more real. Ethan was alive and breathing by himself and okay.

'But he isn't okay' was the thought that brought him smack down onto the concrete of reality. Ethan's level of brain damage hadn't been properly assessed yet and there were so many things that could come out of that.

Cal looked at his hand on the top of Ethan's. He wished hard for Ethan to wake up and take his hand back, he wished hard to see Ethan open his eyes and smile.

He wished and wished and wished, but nothing happened.

He glanced back to Ethan's face. "I love you, Nibbles," Cal whispered, his eyes filling up with tears. He withdrew his hand and wiped furiously at his eyes. He was not going to cry.

A thick Scottish accent floated its way towards his ears and Cal, without looking back, departed the room and slipped out the corridor, being careful not to be seen by Dr McKay.

Seeing Ethan sleeping was one thing, but dealing with Dr McKay and Ethan possibly being awake was another altogether. His ounce of courage left as soon as it came. Cal doubted he could do that again, and that hurt.

* * *

Dr McKay, having heard the sound of a door clicking shut behind him, spun to see Caleb Knight hastily leaving Ethan's room. He considered calling him back, aiming to talk to him, but quickly decided against it. Cal had come to see Ethan and right now that was the best he'd done in days. He'd talk to him later.

Right now, though, he was checking to see how Ethan's responses were doing. He said a quick goodbye to the nurse he was talking to and walked into Ethan's room.

What he didn't expect was to see a not-so-peaceful Ethan. He wondered whether he was awake when his brother was in the room or had woken up in the minute since, but at least he was awake.

Dr McKay politely greeted Ethan, then proceeded to ask some basic commands. Ethan did very well: both of his hands could squeeze Dr McKay's and it seemed he could understand basic questions. He got a little frustrated (Dr McKay had seen enough patients in his time to recognise even the smallest of facial expressions) when he couldn't perform the harder tasks such as sitting up slightly unaided and pushing against Dr McKay's hand, but he was quick to reassure Ethan that it didn't matter at the moment and he was making great progress.

Unfortunately, until Ethan started speaking (and he hoped that they could get to that stage), Dr McKay couldn't accurately assess how much Ethan understood. He couldn't understand his needs or wants or just how he was feeling.

It didn't take long after Dr McKay had finished his assessment for Ethan to fall back asleep (and even sleep through obs). He jotted down the required text in Ethan's notes, smiled to himself at his progress, then left Ethan to sleep.

* * *

Cal went through the rest of the day only focusing on one more patient. Since Stephanie and since seeing Ethan, Cal had a sort of heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He'd seen how Stephanie's mother had been when she found out about her daughter and it was a painful reminder of how he had been when he'd first received a panicked phone call from Ethan, when he was listening to the voice of his bleeding out and dying brother. It was a feeling he wanted no-one to feel. It was such desperation, such  _hopelessness_  that filled you up.

One of the worst feelings in the world.

Unfortunately for him, he had been placed on minors for the rest of the day on account of him 'looking rough'. He huffed at Connie's retreating back, annoyed she'd taken resus away from him.

And he didn't want to admit she was right when his mind could only focus on one more person the entire shift.

* * *

Having finally gotten rid of Lofty's attempts to ask if he wanted company or wanted to go for a drink or wanted to see Ethan ("I can go with you if you'd like"), Cal took a taxi home. His thoughts were filled with Ethan the entire way. He partially welcomed them, severely missing his brother. One would think he'd have become used to life without his little brother's chirpy presence around but the hole where Ethan, as he used to be, once was, was only growing bigger.

He almost asked the driver to turn back around and go to the hospital, but like the coward he was, he left it. He wanted to see Ethan again, he just wanted to be by him, hold his hand,  _hug_  him, but then he was reminded of the Ethan he could see. Post-severe-injury, Ethan.

And it terrified him.

Cal paid the driver and made his way up to the flat, feeling that heaviness in his stomach. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the emptiness that the flat was now, but that didn't matter.

After all, he wouldn't notice the emptiness after a few bottles of beer.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thursday, 10 September 2015_

Cal groaned as the sunlight came through his window. He'd forgotten to shut his curtains the night before and now he was feeling the effects of it. His head throbbed and through his spinning vision, he noticed the beer bottles on the floor. Surely he hadn't drunk  _that_ much?

His head disagreed, his stomach not far behind. As soon as his feet touched the floor (he would usually call in sick, but Cal needed to go into work and stop patients ending up like Ethan) bile rose in his throat. He couldn't quite remember the journey to the bathroom, but he certainly remembered the way his stomach cramped and his throat burned.

Rule one of drinking: don't do it on an empty stomach. And what did Cal do?

 _Ugh, you idiot_ , he scolded himself, resting his head on the tiled wall.  _You absolute idiot._

* * *

Cal tried to be discreet as he entered the ED, but just as he entered the staffroom Connie's voice came from behind him."Dr Knight."

Cal prepared himself for the lecture. He didn't realise how slowly he was getting ready until he happened to glance at the clock and realise that he was fifteen minutes late. And that was before he'd showered.

"How are you this morning?"

Taken aback at her suddenly different tone (was it  _caring_?), he took a moment to answer. When he finally recovered the power of speech, he said, "I'm good." It wasn't that much of a lie. If he ignored his sickness, his (slowly receding thanks to the paracetamol) headache and the constant hurting of his heart when he thought of Ethan, he was good.

"Okay. You're on minors again today with Lily."

Cal started to protest. "I'd rather take resus."

He could see the cogs turning in her head as she tried to think of a response that wouldn't hurt him. "You don't look too well, it would be best for you to take cubicles."

"Please, Mrs Beauchamp. I really would like to take resus."

Connie shook her head. "Cubicles, Dr Knight." She walked out, leaving Cal standing there, frustrated (and a little nauseous).

* * *

Cal couldn't stop watching, in much the same way you couldn't  _not_ watch something horrific. He didn't know why he was still stood there watching it unfold, but he was. He had no need to be there. He'd discharged his patient ten minutes ago and only brought him to resus to see his brother.

Cal stood watching through the resus window. Hunter - the older of the two - was whispering rather than talking. Cal had discovered that he had suffered rather bad smoke inhalation and could see by the way his burns were wrapped up how bad they were. Hugo - the younger by three years - only had minor burns and so was treated by Cal and a (very concerned) Lofty, who'd not kept quiet about Cal looking ill - though Cal knew that Lofty wasn't stupid and realised that he was hungover.

Cal didn't have to stay after taking Hugo to Hunter, but he couldn't walk away. Maybe it was because their interaction reminded him of Ethan. Reminded him of how they used to talk to each other. It filled him up with jealousy and would give anything for them to be in Hugo's and Hunter's positions. With him lying on the resus bed, of course, because be would run into a burning building 100 times for Ethan.

So when Hunter went into cardiac arrest, Cal found himself frozen in place, watching a distraught Hugo get dragged out of resus and watching his colleagues try to save Hunter's life.

He didn't know how long he was stood there for until the team stopped. "It's been 36 minutes. I think we should call it," floated to his ears. And so did the time of death.

He didn't feel so jealous anymore, at least Ethan was  _alive_.

Mind made up as he watched a Hugo break down inside resus, he strode to the lift and pressed the control hard. Too impatient, after only a couple of seconds, he took the stairs two at a time. The first flight didn't tire him, the second barely made a dent. But then as he stopped on the third to catch his breath, he had time to think.

He saw what he saw yesterday, Ethan sleeping soundly. But his mind twisted and changed it and he saw Ethan struggling. He saw Ethan unable to do anything, scared and ill. He saw Ethan hate him and then he saw something worse, Ethan's brain being damaged to the point that he couldn't recognise Cal.

He turned and ran back down the stairs.

* * *

_Sunday, 13 September 2015_

The last two shifts flew by in a haze for Cal. He knew he wasn't focused enough to work in a busy ED, so he did the sensible thing and hid in the staffroom for most of his shifts, and the less-than-sensible thing and came home and had a couple of beer bottles to calm him and help him ease off the stress and memories.

And now, he planned to spend his day off in bed. He had forgotten to switch his alarm off (but thankfully had shut the curtains) and tried to go back to sleep. There were so many things spinning around in his mind though (a few being his little brother and also how he needed to get a new car thanks to smashing up his old one) that he couldn't fall back to sleep.

So he dragged himself out of bed and to the kitchen to get the bottle opener and allowed himself some more beer. At least it had worked so far in getting him to fall asleep. And if he was drunk, maybe it would help his hangover.

* * *

The good mood didn't last long in Ethan Hardy's ICU room. Dr McKay had been feeling positive this morning. Yesterday had not been such a good day with Ethan growing frustrated very quickly. Today was another day and he wanted to get Ethan better.

It hurt him, usually, to see patients like this, but he had learned to step back emotionally. But he knew Ethan as a doctor prior to the attack on him and he found it more difficult not to be emotionally involved.

But today, he had made progress with him, getting him to respond to more commands. Ethan looked less tired when he woke up and looked more alert. Things were okay.

But then unexpectedly, one of the worst things happened and Ethan started fitting.

* * *

_Wednesday, 16 September 2015_

"You shouldn't have burst into resus like that, Cal."

"What was I supposed to do?" Cal shouted. "That woman was  _dying_!"

Connie, despite watching Cal fall apart in front of her, managed to stay relatively calm. "She had a team around her, helping her."

"But I had to save her!" he said. He had been confined to cubicles for the past three days, almost as if he was in a prison cell. When senior members weren't around, he did sneak into resus to help those patients. He couldn't let people go through what he has been and is going through. He couldn't let another Hunter-Hugo situation happen.

"She was being saved, Cal."

Cal threw his hands in the air in annoyance. "But they can't do it!"

"And you can?"

" _Yes_! No-one else  _gets_  what happens if you miss something; if you're too slow; if you  _give up_."

Connie stared at him for a long moment. "Go home, Caleb. I shouldn't have asked you to come into work this soon."

"No, Mrs Beauchamp... I can be here, I can work."

Connie sighed and sat behind her desk, motioning for Cal to sit as well. "Have you been to see Ethan recently?"

Cal squared his jaw. "Yes,  _actually_."

"When, might I ask?"

"Does that matter?" he asked angrily.

Connie hesitated, her speaking tone turning solemn. "Dr McKay has been trying to get in touch with you."

Cal felt his heart rate pick up. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

"You really should go and see Ethan, Cal."

"He's not... got worse or anything, right? Oh God, please no." Cal wrung his hands in his lap anxiously.

"You need to see him. I won't expect you in work for a while, okay Cal?"

" _I can work_ , Connie."

"No, Cal. You can't. You need to support your brother, he needs you. And, and you need him."

Cal's helpless eyes met her face. "Please tell me what's happened," he said quietly.

She seemed to consider Cal's request, but Cal kept silently pleading with her. She took a deep breath in. "Ethan's had another seizure."

Cal felt his stomach churn, and not as a result of the alcohol he'd had last night.

"They think he might have developed epilepsy as a result of his head injury."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to apologise for the time skips I use. Writing what every day or every two days is like is tough in a story that has to take place over a longer period of time. To keep it interesting for me to write (so it doesn't take me 7 months to update) and so it doesn't completely drag on for readers, time skips are the only solution. I really hope they aren't annoying or horrible for you, please tell me if they are and I'll try my best to cut them down. Don't know if I'll be any good at that though.

_Sunday, 20 September 2015_

Cal didn't remember much after he'd stumbled out of Connie's office. In fact, he didn't remember much of the past four days at all (which could probably be attributed to his over-sleeping and over-drinking). The only thought that he did remember was that Ethan _, Ethan_ , had epilepsy. As if things couldn't get any worse. No-one knew what level of damage had been done to Ethan's brain. No-one knew how much he would recover.

But at the first hurdle, Ethan was thrown  _epilepsy_.

Cal took another swig from the bottle he was gripping and wiggled around his steadily cramping foot, staring at the blank TV screen in amongst all the crumbs on the sofa.

Ethan would have been mad at him.

Not anymore.

No-one could say he didn't listen to Connie. Under her instructions he didn't return to work. It just so happened that Cal had selective hearing and chose  _not_ to listen to her saying he should be with Ethan.

Ethan didn't need someone like Cal. Cal was the reason he was in this mess in the first place and Cal can't help get him out. It hurt Cal so  _much_ to see Ethan in that state. So what was the point? He had doctors and nurses and physios.

Cal wasn't important anymore.

* * *

_Thursday, 24 September 2015_

Connie had phoned him. Dr McKay had phoned him. Charlie had and Max and Lofty and...

Cal never picked up. He knew what they would say to him anyway.

" _Ethan needs you."_

_"You're his brother."_

_"Ethan's not well."_

_"Come_ on _, Cal!"_

He didn't see the point of listening to someone else say the same things he's been thinking. It's not like he'd suddenly forgotten that he was Ethan's brother or that Ethan had brain damage.

They just didn't seem to get how  _hard_ it was. And even Cal didn't fully get it. After all, Cal had everything. All his motor functions, all his speech, a healthy body.

Ethan didn't.

Cal clumsily slotted the home video into the VCR player and watched as the images of his childhood played out on screen.

* * *

Ethan felt trapped. His movements were limited, his understanding of simple speech compromised and his overall mood was awful.

He could see better now, not everything was so blurry. But he was confused.

He was so, so _, so_  confused and his voice wouldn't work.  _Nothing_  worked!

There was a doctor there that he was sure he recognised, but be couldn't remember his name. He'd said it multiple times to him but... nothing.

Ethan wanted Cal.

He knew, he remembered his big brother. He could barely move, barely respond, barely do anything!

Sometimes he woke up with a stuffy head but that didn't compare to the constant underwater feeling.

He knew Cal could make it better, but Cal wasn't there. And he couldn't do anything about it!

* * *

_Monday, 28 September 2015_

He switched off the television after watching a younger version of himself and Ethan play Twister. He remembered the day fondly, remembered letting Ethan win. His father had told him off for it (conveniently off camera) because he said Ethan shouldn't be used to winning all the time, because it wouldn't spur him on to work hard. Ethan was only nine. His mother had been proud of Cal, though, and Ethan was none the wiser, taking the victory as leeway to boast in front of Cal.

Cal let him. Ethan needed something to be happy about. He'd been teased by his classmates once again for his stutter and had come home crying.

And strange as it was, Cal missed those days. He could make Ethan happy, make him feel like he could achieve something (and although Cal was reluctant to admit it, Ethan always beaten him at Scrabble fair and square so he could achieve things without Cal's aid). He loved to see Ethan's eyes brighten and a smile spread across him face.

It was the same look he would occasionally observe since coming back to Holby. When Ethan cracked a particularly hard diagnosis, or when he beat him at chess. And the same look when he first started going out with Honey (and what a disaster that turned out to be).

He was a good brother back then. A good older brother. He had been told so by his mother and Ethan and he believed both of them.

With hours of home videos playing on his mind, Cal felt a type of determination he hadn't in a long time.

Now, he was going to be a better brother. Whatever it took to be there for Ethan he would do it. However much it hurt Cal to watch Ethan struggle, however guilty Cal felt, however horrible Cal was feeling, it didn't matter.

Ethan was his dorky, nerdy, sweet, innocent little brother and Cal was going to be there for him.

Because, yes, Ethan, had doctors and nurses and physios but there was only one brother. And even if Ethan didn't need Cal, Cal needed Ethan.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thursday_ _, 01 October 2015_

Cal couldn't do it.

Every morning was the same. He would wake up, shower, get dressed, have breakfast, brush his teeth and put his shoes on. And every morning he would reach his front door, go to unlock it, and withdraw his hand.

He thought he could see Ethan. He thought that he would manage to step out of his flat, get in and drive his car to the hospital, go to ICU and  _see his brother_.

But he couldn't. The thought absolutely terrified him.

_I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm so, so sorry._

* * *

Ethan shifted in bed, feeling uncomfortable. He wanted to move but was barely able to. Dr McKay - he could now retain the name in his mind - was kind to him. He smiled a lot and praised the little things Ethan did. Various people he recognised came to see him: Mrs Beauchamp, Charlie, a Chinese woman he couldn't remember the name of.

But he was still so  _confused._ He didn't know where Cal was, no one would tell him. They told him how Honey (whoever that was...) wouldn't be coming back and that they were sorry about it. They told him that he had been injured and was currently ill but they were working on helping him recover and they told him how proud they were of him for fighting.

But no-one ever told him about Cal. Ethan couldn't ask about Cal, he couldn't even speak. His movements were still weak and he felt sore all over. Occasionally people would guess his needs: a drink of water, for example. But he could only nod and shake his head weakly in response.

He was getting annoyed. More than annoyed. Sometimes he'd be relatively calm, but other times he would get angry. Mostly with himself; he couldn't do things he knew were basic every day things.

Dr McKay had told him not to get stressed, that getting stressed would be bad for his health. Just saying that wouldn't help his stress, and once or twice - when he'd been really frustrated to the verge of tears - he blacked out and woke up with a stuffy head.

And he  _didn't understand_!

"Hey, hey. It's okay, Ethan." Dr McKay was by his side (Ethan didn't even see him enter) and he rubbed his arm.

_I feel like a child._

He was sitting up slightly in bed, his bed head having been raised up earlier. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks. Dr McKay handed him a tissue. Ethan didn't do anything. It wasn't like he'd be strong enough to do anything with it.

"Come on, Ethan.  _Try_."

At least Dr McKay seemed to be a mind-reader. His smile though, and his positive energy, encouraged him. Ethan put all his strength into his arm, shaking slightly. He brought it up to his face slowly, tiring with the effort. He managed to wipe both his eyes before letting his arm fall limply back onto the bed.

Ethan didn't feel happy but Dr McKay was beaming.

* * *

Ethan wasn't hungry. He was tired. He'd been awake for a while and wanted to go back to sleep, but Dr McKay and a nurse - Ethan hadn't been able to commit his name to memory - were trying to get him to eat by himself. Only small amounts, but "you're making progress, Ethan. Let's try this, shall we?"

No. Ethan didn't want to try it. He wanted his big brother.

Mutely, he shook his head in response to their encouragement. It was the fourth time he'd had to decline and they still didn't understand that he  _didn't want it_.

Ethan moved his shaky hand across the paper resting to the side of him, on his bed. It was the nurses way of allowing him to communicate whilst he was recovering. There were many things beyond Ethan at the moment, speaking one of them.

A lot of his energy was put into trying to communicate with this piece of paper with the letters of the alphabet, but it was much better than not having a voice at all.

Slowly and not at all steadily, he pointed to three letters.

CAL.

"We haven't been able to get in touch with him," Dr McKay said apologetically. "Why don't you try a mouthful of that soup while I try and phone Cal."

Ethan shook his head, pointing again.

CAL.

"I will, just eat a bit first. You're doing so well, you can continue it."

It was a slow process, pointing at letters with minimum strength, but soon Ethan managed to get his point across.

NO EAT. CAL.

Dr McKay didn't frown or anything. All he said was, "glad to see you haven't lost your persistence."

* * *

Cal let his phone ring out. He always did, and then if the caller left a voicemail he listened and decided how to proceed. Many had been left regarding Ethan, and Cal  _did_  want to see him, but he couldn't and he didn't know why.

The phone stopped. He left it for a bit. Then he checked to see if a voicemail had been left. Surprise, surprise, it was Dr McKay.

" _Hello, Caleb. Please, when you get this message, come to the hospital. Ethan needs you. He's... well, he's refusing to eat until you come here..."_

And with that, without even  _listening_  to the rest of the message, Cal found the motivation he needed.

* * *

For the first time in a while, Cal found himself at the entrance to ICU. He'd made it this far, but he constantly wanted to turn around. The only thing keeping him from turning was Ethan being... well,  _his_ wonderful, idiotic Ethan.

His ID card allowed him access to ITU and he walked in. He knew the way to Ethan's room blindfolded and wasted no time in getting there. Peeping through the window he saw Ethan - sitting up slightly -, Dr McKay and Nurse Jones.

The nerves, for once, were subdued. They allowed him to not only knock on the door to warn them of his presence, but open the door and walk in.

Ethan's head slowly turned towards him, his eyes immediately brightening.

Cal half-smiled. "Hey, Ethan."


	16. Chapter 16

Ethan gave him a lopsided smile back and Cal watched as he struggled to lift up his right arm, it trembled and there was a focused look in his eye. Cal, unsure of what to do, stood awkwardly in the doorway. Ethan let his arm hover in the air and stretched out his hand towards Cal.

Tentatively, Cal walked to Ethan's side and took Ethan's hand in his own. The energy drained rapidly from Ethan, Cal could feel it, but it didn't matter. Cal kept a hold of Ethan's hand as he placed it down onto the bed, and was grateful when Dr McKay slipped a chair behind his knees.

Cal was still holding Ethan's hand as he sat down and Ethan kept his eyes on him.

"Hey," he repeated, squeezing Ethan's hand. "Missed you."

Ethan nodded and raised his eyebrows slightly. Cal knew him well enough to know he was agreeing.

He looked seriously at his brother. "Sorry I wasn't there for you." Cal didn't know how aware Ethan had been recently and could inly hope he had wanted Cal today and not any other days, but he couldn't be sure. "I'm here for you now, okay? I'm here for you, Nibbles."

Ethan slightly smiled again, not objecting to the nickname, and gave Cal's hand a weak squeeze.

"Now what's this I hear about you not eating, hey?"

Ethan weakly shrugged and his left hand started to weakly move, shaking, across the lettered piece of paper. Cal kept looking at it, being patient and spelling out the word in his head. He was angry at the bastard that landed him in hospital and had caused this to happen to Ethan, for Ethan to have to use that to communicate. But he was also angry at himself because he didn't know to what length he had also caused this.

After Ethan stopped moving, Cal nodded to indicate he'd understood.

WANT YOU.

"And I'm here now, bud. Do you want to try and eat?"

Cal watched Ethan's facial expressions carefully and was shocked to see that Ethan looked  _scared_. Then a tear fell from his eye. Cal gently used his thumb to wipe it away.

"It's okay, Ethan. I'm here. You can try and eat today, but I'm sure Dr McKay won't mind if you can't."

Ethan looked pleading and he held onto Cal's hand.

"Hey, Nibbles." Cal shuffled closer to Ethan, stroking his hair. "It's okay, it'll be alright. We can try -"

Ethan immediately shook his head.

Cal glanced to Dr McKay, who mouthed, "tomorrow," before leaving Cal with Ethan and giving the brother's some space.

"You'll be okay, Ethan. You can get through this.  _We_  can. Together."

* * *

_Monday, 05 November 2015_

Cal, despite finding the last month hard, had started to realise just how lucky he was that Ethan was alive. He had spent a lot of nights comforting Ethan. He had spent days trying to reason with him, trying to help him through. Dr McKay was persistent and insisted that the faster Ethan's recovery, the better Ethan would feel.

But recovering from a brain injury is more than hard and a couple of times, the stress of it all had set him into a fit. All Cal could do then was stand by and watch while other people dealt with him, because "you're not his doctor, Cal. You're his brother."

But Ethan was able to eat a little by himself now. He still became scared and needed Cal with him in case something happened, but any progress was good progress.

This morning was much of the same as usual. Occasionally he would stay over in the hospital, but had been told many times he needed to go home and rest. A few times Cal couldn't sleep because he kept thinking about Ethan and how alone he would feel if he woke up, and therefore had a couple of cans of beer. But his flat was clean and his life at home was good enough.

As he entered Ethan's hospital room that morning, he hoped it would be a good day. Many times it had started out well but turned into a bad day. Cal hoped the smile on Ethan's face meant it was a good day.

"Good morning, Cal." Cal recognised him as one of the nurses, but was far too focused on Ethan to reply or even remember his name.

Ethan was sitting up in bed, his face screwing up with effort. On the table in front of him were face down cards. Cal knew this exercise. This was the fourth time this week. The cards had pictures of people on - colleagues and friends and celebrities. It was designed to try and help Ethan's memory (one of the things they really needed to work on) and his speech. So far, Ethan hadn't spoken. It had disappointed Cal but it had severely frustrated Ethan to the point where he bashed his fist on the table top two days ago. Not only could he not remember someone's name, but he couldn't say it either.

The letter chart was by him, but Cal could see that Ethan was determine not to use it.

Cal stepped to the side of Ethan, peering down at the cards. The backs were white and the cards swapped around frequently. Ethan would have time to look before they were turned over and he'd have to say the names of the people and point to which card they were underneath.

Ethan's hand hovered over one of the cards, finger resting on it. Cal watched as he tried to speak and then watched the tears build in his eyes as he couldn't get his brain and mind to connect. He was sure Ethan knew who was under there, he just had to say it.

"Come on, Ethan. You can do it."

Ethan glanced at Cal and had a new look of perseverance in his eyes.

He grabbed the corner of the card (a little unsteadily and shakily, but it was something) as if he knew he was going to say the name. His face was determined and Cal could see the muscles tensing in his neck.

"C..."

It was one sound, but Cal could see Ethan smiling and that made him smile.

"C...Ca...C...Cal..."

Triumphantly, Ethan flipped the card over to reveal Cal's hospital ID card photo. He turned his face to Cal and beamed.

Cal couldn't help but mirror it. "Proud of you, little bro."


	17. Chapter 17

_Saturday, 10 November 2015_

Cal couldn't help it. As much as Ethan blushed and became embarrassed, Cal couldn't stop expressing how proud he was of Ethan. Despite the constant battling with Ethan's head and Ethan's unusual (well, unusual before the attack, normal now because of his brain injury) behaviour, Cal was positively beaming.

It didn't take much for Ethan to get angry anymore. It was usually anger directed inwards. Anger at not being able to do things, frustration when he couldn't find the right word.

Then there was the other emotion, the other look that Cal saw far too often for his liking.

Hopelessness.

It physically pained Cal to watch Ethan go from trying his best to completely down within a second. Cal was used to the switching emotions, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt when he watched the transition.

And he hated it when Ethan gave up.

"Please, Ethan. Just try?"

Ethan stubbornly shook his head. He hadn't gotten a word from Ethan from the minute the physio walked in the room. The same thing happened yesterday. Ethan had finished eating 10 minutes prior (he'd accidentally spilt some water on his chest but Cal had been quick to come to his aid and Ethan didn't get too annoyed with himself) and then the physio walked in.

Ethan had been warned of her arrival, been told that maybe he should try standing up, and he was positive about it. Then she actually arrived and Ethan was  _determined_  to refuse. He hadn't spoken for two hours after that and Cal didn't know why. He had tried asking, but Ethan shut down.

Sometimes, Cal wished he was at home in bed. It was too hard to see this, too hard to deal with it. He could do it with patients, he knew how to detach. But detaching from his brother was hard and found he had dealt with Ethan's emotional situations by being emotional himself. Wasn't the best thing.

"It doesn't have to be for long, we can just try?" Olivia - the physio - said kindly. Cal had apologised yesterday outside the room for taking up her time: an hour and a half was a long time to spend with a patient who didn't want to do anything. But she had been accepting, "there are far worse things, trust me."

Ethan still shook his head, pursing his lips.

"Why don't you want to, Eth?" Cal said in a low voice, hoping it would make Ethan more comfortable with telling him.

Ethan turned to look at him, and Cal saw it again. The hopelessness.

Taking a guess, Cal said, "are you scared, Ethan? Is that why?"

It took a moment for Ethan to respond, and Cal didn't think he was going to. But sure enough, Ethan nodded slightly, eyes filling with tears.

"W-wh-at i-if I ca-n-n't?"

Cal hugged his brother, feeling him tremble in his arms. "You don't have to run a marathon straight away. Everything takes  _time_  and you just have to try. You won't know if you don't try."

"I-if I c-an't e-e-ev-er... ev-... I-I..."

He was struggling to find the word, Cal could tell. He'd seen it happen with Ethan and patients alike, and Ethan  _hated_ it.

"I-I... C-Ca-l..."

Cal stroked his arms, glancing over to Olivia who was looking at him sympathetically.

"It's okay, Ethan. You'll get it. Focus. Remember what Dr McKay said?" And the problem was that Ethan might not. " _Focus_."

"C-ca-an't!"

Cal looked at Ethan with wide eyes. "Yes. You can. I know you can."

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath in (that hitched slightly due to his emotional state). "O-ok-ay." He paused. Cal smiled encouragingly. "W-wha-t i-if I ca-n't e-ev-er... ev-er... w-w-... wa-alk a-ag-ain-n?" A tear dripped from Ethan's eye and slid down his cheek.

"Oh, Ethan." He held Ethan's forearms. "You  _will_. We have ages yet to get you back on your feet. I know it's disappointing when you can't do stuff, but it doesn't mean it will be like this forever."

Ethan didn't respond.

"Okay, Ethan? You will get better."

Again there was no response and Cal knew it would take more than a few words to convince him. But he needed progress, and Ethan was too scared to even try.

"Shall we try to stand, Ethan?" Olivia said.

Cal watched the hopelessness change the determination. "L-le-ts d-do t-th-is."

* * *

Ethan, despite agreeing to try, was still terrified. If he tried to stand or even walk and couldn't then it would prove he wouldn't be able to do things. It would prove he was weak and useless.

Of course, he couldn't tell Cal. He was Mr Positivity recently and it was getting a little tiring. It at least gave him hope because if Ethan wasn't positive, Cal would be.

He hated this though. He hated not being able to speak properly and when things slipped his mind. He forgot things easily and sometimes when he was trying to speak, he'd want to say something but the word just wasn't  _there_.

And he'd even experienced lightswitch moods. One moment he had been happy, positive even, looking forward to progressing. Then the reason why he'd nicknamed them lightswitch moods kicked in and suddenly he was angry. Or upset. Or crying. And the worst thing? Half the time he didn't even know  _why_.

Well, logically he knew why. He had a brain injury (as Cal had explained tearily to him) and the vague memories he had of what that included was switching moods. But, emotionally, he had no reason for it. His mood, his mind, his reasoning could switch within a second and he hated it.

He knew what happened (vaguely). Memories of what happened came back to him. He wished they didn't. Nightmares were an awful side effect of it. But to learn that he had not only been stabbed, but he died on the table  _Fucked Him Up_. If it wasn't for that godawful man this wouldn't have happened. Fine, he can deal with being stabbed. But he can't deal with the brain injury that he apparently had.

Cal told him it was being his brain had been starved of oxygen. He couldn't quite remember the name Cal gave it (he couldn't remember a lot of things) but he knew what had happened and why.

And now with the walking. He wanted to walk, he wanted to get out of the godawful bed, but he was shaky at the best of times and he knew his muscles were weak. Cal had explained (because Cal has to explain a lot of things now god _Dammit_ ) that it may be hard at first. That his brain damage could have severely affected that part of his brain.

Ethan didn't really understand, but he'd nodded like he did.

But with newfound drive and maybe even hope, Ethan decided that now was the time to try. Olivia was his physiotherapist. He was sure he recognised her the first time she had walked into the room, but couldn't place his finger on it. Much like a lot of  _damn things_. It took him a lot of repetition in his own mind to commit her name to memory, and when she walked into the room this morning the name jumped out at him. He  _remembered_.

That felt good.

He grit his teeth and weakly rose from the bed, already feeling his limbs protest. With Cal's help, he manoeuvred until his feet were on the floor and he was sat on the side of the bed. Grateful for Cal's arms still around him, he smiled at his brother. Cal smiled back. He understood.

Ethan liked that. He liked being able to not always use words with his brother. He hadn't always appreciated the power of facial expressions, but now with so limited words and energy to get what he wanted to say out, it had become his new best friend.

"When you're ready, Ethan, I want you to try and stand. I'll be here so you won't fall, and Cal will be right there behind you. Okay?"

He nodded. He was ready.

He used his arms to push down on the bed beside him, putting most of his strength into his hands. He started to feel his weight shift to his legs and feet. Cal gently held onto his waist and Olivia stood in front of him. Almost as immediately as he took his arms off the bed, his knees buckled underneath him and he was overcome with a wave of dizziness.

He was caught by Cal and steadied by Olivia. They both helped him back on the bed so he was lying again.

He felt the tears flood his eyes, felt the anger building within him.

Cal was speaking, saying something about it being normal. His lips were moving, his voice full of emotion, but Ethan wasn't listening. He didn't  _want_  to listen.

It was  _such_ a simple thing.  _Such_ an  _easy_ thing to do. Stand up. Be a normal person. Get out of the stupid hospital bed.

He couldn't even do that right.

His fists slammed onto the bed. And again. Cal caught his hands but Ethan tried once more to do it. He tried to speak, tried to find the words but nothing came. His mouth wouldn't work. He cried, anger and frustration and  _envy_ for seeing Cal and Olivia standing filled him.

Then the fuzziness came. His brain filled with fog. It was a strange feeling, one he'd had before. He couldn't remember what it meant. Couldn't remember what happened afterwards. Then the metallic taste came.

Then nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

Cal held Ethan's hands gently as he tried to slam them down on the bed for the third time. Tears fell down his cheeks and every negative emotion possible looked like it was displayed on Ethan's face. He was trying to get his wrists from Cal's grasp but was too weak to do it. He was wailing, anguish flowing out of him. Cal would like to say that this was an uncommon occurrence, but it wasn't.

Cal hated this part. When Ethan turned from feeling positive to absolutely awful. He hated how easily it happened, how easily it showed. It could happen because of the slightest thing: Ethan dropping something, Ethan not being able to do something. Cal had learnt better how to prevent it but he knew that this time, it was going to be harder to calm him down. This wasn't just spilt water anymore.

But he had to get Ethan to calm down, and quickly. Extreme stress was found to be one of Ethan's seizure triggers. And Ethan was  _stressed_.

He wanted to take Ethan in his arms, but he worried he was going to lash out again. It wouldn't be for the first time if Ethan's fists went from the bed to pushing against Cal when he tried to calm him down.

Cal's attempts were fruitless. He watched as Ethan changed. His crying diminished, his muscles tensed in Cal's arms and then, he started to shake.

Olivia called for help. Cal lowered the bed so Ethan was lying flat. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room. Ethan was being sick. Cal was pushed back.

He could only stand and watch as Ethan was turned on his side. He could only stand and watch while his brother was in distress. He could only stand and watch his brother seizing.

 _He could only stand and watch_.

He hated how he couldn't help Ethan medically. He wanted to, he needed to be more useful, but he'd been told more than once that he was a relative. He couldn't intervene. He  _hated_ it!

* * *

Ethan was sleeping. He had been for a couple of hours. The day's events had taken a toll on his energy and Cal didn't blame him for sleeping a lot. Cal was tired too, but he didn't dare sleep. He was being a better brother, and now that meant watching over Ethan. Making sure he was okay, making sure he slept peacefully (because, sadly, he sometimes didn't).

They'd talked little about the attack all those months ago, Ethan always tended to avoid the subject. When Cal brought it up, he'd swerve it away. He knew that Ethan was struggling with the memories and was sure that his nightmares were connected to it. Ethan wouldn't talk about it, so Cal couldn't find out.

He noticed movement from the bed and saw Ethan start to wake up.

"Hey, Ethan," he said, smiling. The simple phrase made Ethan smile too.

"H-he-y." Ethan shuffled around a bit, using a fist to rub his tired eyes. "C-Cal," he whispered, sounding slightly nervous. He didn't continue.

Cal moved his chair closer. "What is it, Ethan?"

"I… I t-thi-ink I-I re-mm-mmem-ber."

He knew what he was referring to, and said carefully, "all of it?"

"M-mo-st."

* * *

_Thursday, 15 November 2015_

It took a while for Ethan to remember the majority of it. He remembered more than he did five days ago, when he told Cal he may be ready to speak about it. Cal knew Ethan was scared. Even Cal didn't know what happened – who happened - that day. He couldn't deny he was bursting to know, but the logical part of his brain knew he should give Ethan time and space and patience.

And that's how they ended up sitting in Ethan's hospital room, with a police officer in a chair next to Cal's.

"Can you tell me what happened that day?"

Ethan looked to Cal. Cal nodded, encouraging him. He took Ethan's hand and held it tightly, anything to show that he was there and it  _was_  going to be okay.

"I-I trea-ted a gi-rl a-and her mmm-oth-er."

"Do you remember their names, Dr Hardy?"

He shook his head and glanced at Cal again. "It's fine, Ethan. We can find out who they are."

Ethan shrugged, and Cal hated that he knew Ethan was upset he couldn't remember. He hated that Ethan was already feeling down.

"What else happened that day?"

"Th-ey both d-die-d. I-I to-ld the fath-er."

"Oh my god," Cal breathed out, interrupting Ethan.

"Dr Knight?"

Cal hit himself on the head then ran his hand down his face. "I can't believe I didn't remember sooner! I remember the father. You'd just come up to me and told me you'd lost both the mother and daughter. You told me who the father was. Oh my god, I  _bet_ it was him!"

"What makes you say that, Dr Knight?"

"I can't remember exactly what he said but I heard the man talking to his wife in resus. He said something about Ethan getting what's coming to him."

"Did he specifically  _name_ Dr Hardy?"

Cal bit his fingernail. "Um… I don't think so. No, no he didn't. I don't think he knew Ethan's name or remembered it or something. He said 'the one with glasses'."

"Could it have been another doctor?"

Cal rolled his eyes, he knew what he heard. "No, because the only other doctor with glasses is Lily – Dr Chao – and she's not a 'he'."

Cal only just noticed Ethan staring at him with wide eyes. "H-hi-m?"

"Dr Hardy –" Ethan turned back to the officer. "Did he say anything to you?"

"I-I… uh… I…"

"Take your time, it's okay, Eth."

"Do-n't know."

"What happened afterwards, Dr Hardy? When you went out?"

"It w-was m-my br-eak. I he-ard s-som-me-one c-cry-ing. I-I w-ent t-to h-el-p. T-the-y, th-ey…"

"They stabbed you," Cal finished heavily.

Ethan nodded, tears filling his eyes. Cal couldn't take just holding Ethan's hand and brought Ethan into a hug. He told himself it was to comfort Ethan, but he needed this contact to. His brother almost died. He was lucky to be hugging him right now.

Once Cal had let Ethan go, the police officer asked, "did you see who it was?"

He shook his head. "S-so-rry."

"There's no need to apologise, Dr Hardy. I think we've got enough information to question this man."

The officer left shortly afterwards. "You did well, Eth. I'm proud of you."

Ethan just shook his head. "T-th-ere w-as so m-mu-ch I cou-ld-n't re-mme-mber."

Cal took his hand again. "To be honest Ethan, I can't remember what I had for dinner a  _week_ ago. You did well for remembering all of that."

"T-than-ks." Ethan smiled. Cal hoped it would continue.

* * *

Cal came back into the room to a curious Ethan after taking a phone call. "That was the police. They've arrested that guy, the father. Ethan… he  _admitted_ it."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to update this every day (*coughs awkwardly* okay so I missed a couple of days, I'm so sorry) but on the Casualty fanfiction page, if you update a story within 24 hours of a previous update, it won't show up as being updated - as in it won't go to the top as one of the recently updated. The chapter number will rise only (if that makes any sense... I apologise, it's hard to explain). So make sure you aren't missing any updates!
> 
> Disclaimer: I had writer's block. I don't like tuna and cucumber sandwiches. Forgive me.

_Tuesday, 20 November 2015_

Cal made a mistake. A huge mistake. One he didn't think Ethan would ever forgive him for.

Lily's text was a simple one (one that sounded much like a doctor being concerned for the welfare of a patient). _Hello, Cal. I'm on my break, is it okay to come up? Would you like me to bring you any lunch (unless you've already had some, then in that case, good)? You've got to keep your strength up, you don't want to have another incident. Lily_

The incident she was referring to was two days ago, when Cal had nipped out to the loo and passed Lily on the way, only he'd become dizzy.

_"You need to remember to eat, Cal."_

He did… most of the time. But it was hard to remember when he was so focused on Ethan.

He'd sent a simple text back.  _yh, course you can. a sandwich wld b cool thnx. cal_

And then came the mistake. Lily had walked into the room, wielding a sandwich and a smile. She handed Cal the sandwich (which he tried to pay for but she refused to take his money) and started talking a bit to Ethan.

But Cal wasn't focused on their conversation. He was more focused on what the sandwich packaging said.

_Tuna and Cucumber Sandwich_

Cal just stared at it, certain he was misreading it. He was sure he hadn't told Lily to get him this one, in fact he even checked the text. Then came the mistake. He hadn't specified _at all_. He would have done if he hadn't been so preoccupied. He was helping his brother, after all.

But this… Ethan would never forgive him for it.

Ethan  _hated_  the smell of tuna. And Cal wasn't so keen on it either. He could write a book… okay maybe a chapter in a book about his dislike for tuna and cucumber sandwiches. They were  _vile._

Lily's pager went off. Cal brought his eyes away from the  _thing_  in his hand and looked at her.

"Eat. You need it." Lily said (slightly patronisingly, _I'm not a child, thank you very much_.) "Get well soon, Ethan." She glanced at her pager again then walked out.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Ethan sighed.

"S-ss-soon," Ethan said grumpily. "S-so-on? S-sser-ious-sly?"

Cal laughed in spite of the situation. "Oh cheer up, Nibbles. You're about to smell your favourite sandwich." He opened up the packet, careful not to let Ethan see the label or the sandwich itself.

It only took a moment for the smell to reach Ethan. He groaned. "C-Callll!"

"Not my fault, Nibbles. Blame Dr Chao."

Ethan huffed and made a sound of discontent.

Cal, knowing he had to eat this if he didn't want to be rude and didn't want to leave Ethan, braced himself. He could already feel the soggy bread on his fingers.

As he raised it towards his mouth he made sure not to breathe through his nose. He wasn't going to subject himself to more torture than necessary. His teeth reached the bread, his mouth closed around it, and he took a bite…

…and was almost sick.

 _Wow_  that tuna tasted a lot like tuna. Strong, straight from the sea tuna.

Except dead and covered in mayonnaise.

Seriously, who the hell would eat this for pleasure? The cucumber made the bread soggy. The mayonnaise made the bread soggy. The tuna gave you bad breath for the rest of the day and the smell - eugh - it's hard to even bring it to your mouth with that smell!

And Ethan wasn't best pleased, in fact he had refused to look at Cal until he finished it and had a mint. After all, even though Ethan wouldn't say it, Cal knew he wanted Ethan just as much as Ethan wanted Cal. And he wasn't going to let him go and brush his teeth, or even just get another sandwich.

He powered through it. Surprisingly not being sick once. Though the bread became soggier and soggier and the cucumber stopped tasting like cucumber and started to just taste like tuna.  _Everything_  started to taste like tuna.

It had tainted the cucumber, would you believe that? It even destroyed the one pure thing left in that Goddamn sandwich!

He only managed three quarters of the lunch before he gave up. He put it back in the soggy God _dammit_  box in absolute disgust and hastily retrieved one of the last remaining mints from his pocket and hastily popped it in his mouth.

The refreshing taste of peppermint exploded in his mouth and he spent a moment just lavishi -

 _Jesus Christ_! Tuna in his teeth.

Even the mint was tainted now.

* * *

The tuna mint was nearly dissolved in his mouth when Ethan said, "Ca-l-leb, I r-re-mem-ber s-some-th-thi-nnng," out-of-the-blue.

If Cal thought tuna and cucumber sandwiches were bad, it was nothing compared to choking on a tuna mint and tasting his lunch again. Twice. First, Ethan had avoided certain words where he could, like longer or harder words. So by choosing to use  _Caleb_ rather than _Cal,_  like the old Ethan would, made part of his sandwich resurface.

Tuna and cucumber, no less!

And the second reason - he remembered something else. It was always nice to hear that, to hear Ethan say he remembered something else. But it was the way be said it. Usually he was excited. But he sounded… sad.

Cal swallowed what was left of the mint and sat forward. "What do you remember, Eth?" He took a drink of his water to get rid of the last of the taste.

"H-Hon-nnney."

Cal almost choked on his drink (gosh he really should have better control over himself). "Honey? As in… your…"

He perked up a bit and smiled. "G-gir-llf...f-f...frie-nd. Y-yes."

"Right."

Ethan nodded fast. "I re-me-mber h-her nnn-ow."

Cal started to dread the conversation to come. Honey had just… left one day. Gone when Ethan started to wake up. And Ethan, a very fragile Ethan, didn't know. He had to stall, had to give himself more time to think. To come up with an answer.

"Okay. And…?"

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "W-wh-ere?"

"Where's Honey?"

Ethan nodded.

Cal placed his water on the bedside cabinet, preparing himself for whatever outcome this would bring. "Well, you see." He cleared his throat. "The thing is, Ethan, she -"

Ethan was looking at him eagerly.

"- um... well, she... I mean... what happened was..."

Suddenly, Ethan started to laugh. Cal was more shocked with that sound coming from Ethan than what he was laughing about… Ethan hadn't laughed like that since before the attack.

It was a sound that warmed his heart up.

"I-it does-nn't t-tak-e a g...g-geni-us…"

Cal wasn't sure whether he was relieved that Ethan knew or sad that he did know. "I'm sorry, Ethan."

"D-don't-t c-care. I h-ha-ve you."

"I hope you're not suggesting we sleep together, Ethan!"

"W-we n-nev-er d-did a-any-way."

"Woah, Nibbles. Too much information."

Ethan laughed once more, seemingly happy that he managed to trick Cal and make him very uncomfortable. Cal vowed never to take that sound for granted ever again.

* * *

Cal used to always find things like this boring. But now it concerned his brother, it definitely wasn't boring anymore.

Dr McKay was explaining how Ethan's progress was going. What they expect to happen, what has happened, what is good and no so good. How different things had affected other things.

"I mean we expect some damage to brain cells due to the lack of oxygen, twice."

Ethan coughed slightly to get Dr McKay to stop talking. "I-I th-ou-ght i-it w-a-ss o-n-ly on-ce."

Cal shrank back into his chair.

Dr McKay looked confused. "What was? The lack of oxygen?"

Ethan nodded. Dr McKay realised what was going on and looked to Cal disapprovingly.

"Cal," he sighed.

"C-Ca-llle-b?"

"You need to tell him."

 _Right, thanks mate. You've dropped me_ right _in it!_

"T-tell m-mme w-wh-at-t?"

Cal looked away from Ethan, his eyes focused on a dirt spot on the glass.

"I'll give you two a few minutes," Cal heard Dr McKay say. He waited until he knew he was outside, and just like if he was talking to nothingness, he explained. After all, it's easier talking to a smudge than your little brother.

"A couple of months ago, when you were still… you know, I maybe had a few too many to drink. It was stupid, I know. I was stupid. I thought you were never going to wake up so I drank a bit. I was tired and scared and worried and I didn't want to lose you. So I did what I always do. I just drank a bit. Anyway, so I thought, well I don't know what I was thinking… you were just… lying there. I had watched you lie there for weeks and weeks and it terrified me! It absolutely terrified me! And I thought that there was no point prolonging anything. I was drunk. You were almost dead. Oh Ethan -" he finally turned to look at his silent brother, who had a look of shock etched on his face. "- I'm so sorry. I started to mess around with the wires and machines. Ethan I could have  _killed_  you. I had to be dragged away, I am so, so sorry. That's why he said twice. Because it was twice. Once because of the attack. Once because of me." He finally paused and stared at Ethan.

Ethan was completely still and completely silent.

"Eth? Please say something, Nibbles."

Nothing.

"Please, Ethan!"


	20. Chapter 20

"Nibbles…" Cal tried to reach out, to place his hand atop Ethan's. Ethan moved his hand away, staring at him. Cal didn't look at him properly. He looked at his eyebrows, shoulders, looked at the wall behind him, at his ears. But he didn't look at Ethan's eyes, he couldn't look at Ethan's eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Cal didn't want to see that.

He looked at Ethan's slightly shaking hand, itching to try and take hold of it again but not prepared for the inevitable knockback. He started speaking, and found that he couldn't stop."Ethan, I… I'm sorry. I know, I  _know_  that sorry won't solve this and I know you probably won't ever want to see me again a-and I can go if you want. I… Ethan, I love you, of course I love you. And I'm so sorry and I don't know how to make it up to you. Or I do. Right? If I leave then you can concentrate on getting better and stronger and you don't have to look at me or-or think about me again."

"C-C -"

"And it doesn't matter because you're okay and you're alive, no thanks to me, but you are. Yeah?" He paused, taking a deep breath and swallowing back the tears. "I know I'm probably just making you upset and I  _was_  going to tell you, I promise. But I wanted to wait until you were ready and I know it's not my place to decide when you're ready but I needed to wait to tell you because I didn't want you getting stressed or upset but then I had to tell you because I had no choice but I was going to tell you when you were better. But you know now and if you want me to go I can go I won't mind and you'll have other people like Lily to help you and she's much better than me anyway."

"C-al…"

"But it's okay because I didn't help you at all and I ran away when things got tough but I, I just couldn't bear it knowing that you were suffering and I thought it was the best thing but I was drunk and wrong and you're alive and you're okay. I ran away and I avoided coming here when you were conscious and that's unforgivable because you're my little brother and I promised to protect you and I didn't and I'm sorry. And you will be okay but I…"

He finally looked at Ethan's face, just above his eyes.

"I love you, Ethan. And I know, I know this is unforgivable. I'll go, okay? Just… you'll be fine. You'll recover fully and you'll be good and you don't need me."

But as Cal looked into his eyes, as he finally braved it and looked into Ethan's eyes, he saw no anger or hatred. Nothing of the sort, as he had previously feared. He saw sympathy, pity,  _longing_. Almost as if Ethan was staring at something be so desperately wanted, but couldn't ever have.

Cal's hand was resting on the bed. Ethan's trembling one moved on top of his. Cal regarded it, shocked that Ethan would initiate the contact.

"Ethan, I -"

He defiantly shook his head. "N-no. L-ist-en t-to m-mme. N-no-t un-f-for-gi-ve… un-for-g-give-a-b-ble. I-I -" Ethan groaned and Cal could tell he was becoming frustrated, wanting to say so much but having trouble saying even the littlest. But Cal waited. He would wait for as long as it took. He always will. "I l-lo-ve y-you a-an-d w-wan-t y-you t-ost-ay." A tear rolled down his cheek and immediately Cal wrapped his arms around Ethan and held Ethan's head in his shoulder. Now his face was hidden, Cal finally let his own tears fall.

* * *

If he was being completely honest, Ethan didn't know why he had passed it by so easily. Cal could have severely injured him,  _killed_  him even. Just the prospect of death terrified Ethan and having a gap of a couple of months in his mind already intimidated him. He had to face up to death when he was lying alone, bleeding out. So he accepted death (sometimes even longed for it, but that was a secret) but didn't like the notion that he could have died. And Cal could have caused it.

But maybe Ethan did know why he passed it by so easily. Because he knew Cal. Because he knew what it took to break Cal completely and Cal was broken completely. Because Cal needed fixing just as much as Ethan and if Ethan told him to go away and never come back, he might well come back. Dead. And the scariest part of that was that it could be an accident or it could be on purpose.

And maybe, just maybe, Ethan knew how precious life was now. He knew it before, he worked in an emergency department. He watched birth and death every day. But he'd come too close to dying himself, so close to losing the people he cared about, that he wanted to hold onto everything he had. Cal was the most precious thing to him, and he wasn't going to lose him because of a mistake. An incredibly stupid and worrying mistake, but a mistake all the same.

Anyone would laugh at him, he supposed. Warn him to get out fast, to leave Cal and never look back. Worry for his sanity for forgiving Cal so easily and wanting to move on. But if Cal had never told him, had never explained what happened, Ethan wouldn't have known and none of this conversation would have happened. Nothing would have changed between them.

So in all honesty, maybe he did know, maybe he didn't. But he did know one thing for certain: to hold on tightly, with both hands, to the precious things. Because one day they will all be lost.

There was a knock on the door. It wasn't necessary, but Ethan was always picky about those things and Cal was doing everything Ethan wanted for the last month or so. Ethan stuttered out for him to come in and Cal did so, albeit struggling with the door, the heavy-looking jug of water he'd just refilled hindering him.

Ethan quickly wiped under his eyes, plastering a smile on his face. He was sure the tears weren't just from today. He was tired and worn out and sick of this hospital room. He missed who he was. He missed being a doctor. He missed being useful.

He inspected Cal's red face and knew he wasn't the only one who had been crying. That was one thing he always hated about Cal; his need to look and act strong. He knew it was a coping mechanism, of course, he did, but Cal needed support sometimes too. Or else… well, or else he does something stupid like nearly drinking himself to death and then proceed to 'help' his brother.

Cal carefully placed the jug on the side and poured Ethan the glass of water he'd needed for the past ten minutes. Well, he said glass. It wasn't a glass. It was plastic so, just in case, if Ethan dropped it there wouldn't be glass everywhere. Ethan knew and understood it, but he didn't like it.

He wasn't a child.

"There you go, Eth." Cal sat down on his usual chair and watched (though he was kind enough to make it discreet watching, Ethan knew he was watching) as Ethan leant over to pick it up.

His grip wasn't strong yet. It was strong enough to hold the cup but one slip and water would go everywhere. So he concentrated,  _hard_. He extended his fingers out and wrapped them around the cup, biting his lip unconsciously. He held it tightly and slowly brought it off the table. Cal tried to hide his smile, Ethan didn't. This felt good. Yesterday he'd dropped it almost as soon as he picked it up.

He brought it over the bed and up to his mouth, taking some sips. It was a nice refreshing taste, he never fully appreciated it before. He never fully appreciated a lot of things.

He took it away from his mouth for a moment - just a moment - to smile at Cal, letting him know it was okay - good, even.

And then his grip loosened and the cup fell from his grasp.

Ethan only glanced at it for a moment. Frustration entered his brain, along with anger. Both directed straight at himself. He heard Cal say something, but he couldn't make it out over his own crying.


	21. Chapter 21

_Monday, 23 November 2015_

There was a knock on the door. Ethan knew it was Olivia - his physiotherapist - having been warned of her arrival. An ordinary person wouldn't phrase it 'warn' for that indicated it's something dangerous. But for Ethan, yes he was warned. Because he didn't want to try to stand or walk. Trying meant the possibility of failing and he as already having a bad morning.

Cal had tried to ask him what was wrong, and Ethan might have given him an answer had he known the answer. The truth was he'd had no idea what was wrong. He just felt really bad, and that meant all he wanted to do was lie in bed listening to Cal.

There was something Ethan never imagined himself thinking. He actually  _wanted_ to listen to Cal. He liked hearing stories or jokes or anything to keep his mind off the situation. And it also meant he didn't have to talk. He was still having help with his speech but today, he couldn't be bothered to even try and talk. Why should he anyway? All it would achieve is slowness and stuttering and frustration when he couldn't say what he wanted to say. He'd learnt it's best not to say anything a lot of the time.

Cal called for Olivia to enter. He was kind enough to realise Ethan wasn't up for talking this morning (though not kind enough to tell Olivia to go away). It wasn't her fault, it was her job to do this. But Ethan just really didn't want to.

"How are you this morning, Ethan?"

Ethan just stared at her, trying to convey he didn't want to try this morning. Or this afternoon. Or ever.

There was silence until Cal broke it, "not great."

She smiled sympathetically. "One of those days, is it?"

He knew what she was trying to do. She was hoping to initiate conversation, even if it was by Ethan moaning about how bad the morning was.

But no, he wasn't going to speak.

After gaining no response, she smiled gently, placed the walking frame (Ethan eyed it up with absolute disgust) to the side and walked over to the left side of the bed.

"Right, so let's try this, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. "Caleb, would you mind…?"

"Not at all."

It any other circumstance, Ethan knew that Cal might have a bit of a thing for Olivia. She looked a lot like Taylor in all honesty, just with light brown hair rather than blonde. Her eyes were a type of blue people would be jealous of and her smile was soft enough to put people at ease (on good days, anyway). But Cal was remaining strictly professional. Good on him.

Ethan, knowing he'd have no choice but to at least try, braced himself for the inevitable moment it would all go wrong. They did what they usually did. Ethan tried to manoeuvre himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed (often, Cal would have to assist him, but today Ethan was determined to prove he wasn't completely useless) and so his legs were over the side. Once they'd got in that position, Cal would be ready to help if - no, when - it all went wrong and Olivia would be standing there with her positive demeanour, rearing to go.

Ethan wondered if that ever became tiring for her.

He looked at the floor, wishing but not brave enough to hope that maybe, today, he could do more than stand up. He was already slightly dizzy (after all, he only really ever lay in bed) but it wasn't as bad as it had been recently.

Maybe it would be better today.

Ethan put his hands on the bed, either side of his body, most of his weight falling on them as he pushed himself up. He could feel his arms shaking but it didn't deter him. The encouraging smiles that both Olivia and Cal were giving him were almost actually  _encouraging_ him.

His feet were on the floor and he quickly moved one of his hands to Olivia's outstretched arm, gripping it tightly.

He stuttered out an apology, feeling stupid that even  _that_ wasn't said clearly. This was why he didn't talk. Olivia only verbally brushed it off.

"Cal," Olivia said (Ethan was focused on the ground so didn't see what she was referring to).

A moment later, the frame appeared within his view. He  _hated_ that thing.

Olivia guided his hand over to it and Ethan gripped that instead, knowing that he  _had_ made progress as his knees hadn't buckled beneath him yet. He removed his other hand from the bed and gripped the other side. He put most of his weight on his arms, scared that if he didn't he would fall.

"When you're ready, Ethan, I want you to take a step forward with your left foot. Okay? You're doing really well."

Ethan knew he wasn't. It was a generic phrase most people learn in the medical profession.

He stood there. He wasn't ready. He would never be ready.

"Ethan, look at me."

He did so, glancing up to Cal's face.

"You can do this, Ethan. I promise you."

 _You can't break this promise, Cal. I swear, don't break it_.

He tightened his grip so it was almost painful and slightly lifted his left foot off the ground. He placed it down further in front.

And he didn't fall.

"You did it, Eth!"

 _Don't get too ahead of yourself, Cal. It's only one step_.

"Well done, Ethan!" Olivia said, rubbing his (slightly trembling) back. "Now, I want you to do the same thing with your right foot, yeah?"

He gave her a pleading look.

"You can do it, Ethan," she said.

He looked back down at his feet, focused on moving his right foot. His arms shook more this time, as did his legs. And as he lifted up his right foot…

Well, Cal had to catch him.

* * *

"Please talk to me, Nibbles."

Olivia had left soon after he had fallen. Ethan even surprised himself when he didn't cry or scream or get frustrated. Inside he was a mess. A self-deprecating, anger-filled, pathetic mess. Outside he didn't even shed a tear. He just let himself get supported back to his bed and looked at the ceiling, resolutely. For twenty minutes straight.

Cal tried everything to get him to speak or even look at him. Ethan made no response to his touch or his voice or the emotion in his voice. He just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, ending this whole stupid ordeal.

"It's okay, Ethan. You made progress. That's something to be happy about, right?"

 _No, it isn't, Cal. There's nothing to be happy about. I can't even speak properly_.

"All right, Ethan. Look, I understand you don't want to do anything right now."

_How could you understand? How could you ever understand?_

"How about I leave for ten minutes, allow you to be alone for a bit, and when I come back we can talk? Does that sound good?"

Ethan did nothing. There was no point.

"All you have to do is nod or shake your head. Shall I leave for a bit?"

Deciding that maybe, responding wouldn't be so bad, Ethan nodded his head.

"Okay, Eth. I'll be back soon. You've got the emergency button if you need it."

Cal left without saying another word, and now Ethan was left alone with his thoughts. He almost liked Cal's attempts to get him to respond (even though they were fruitless) as it meant he could at least focus on something other than his mind's darkness.

Now Cal was gone, he let his eyes travel to the bedside cabinet. He knew that Cal's glass of water was on the side and as he looked, he could see it as clear as day. Beside it was his own plastic cup, that stupid, worthless thing that showed his physical inability to do the simplest things.

He glanced outside, through the partially covered-with-blinds window. Cal was stood, Ethan could just see, a little way down the corridor talking to Dr McKay.

Usually, it would bother him that they were having a conversation without him, usually because the conversation would be  _about_ him, but today he passed it over. There was something else on his mind.

He needed to prove he wasn't a child, he could do things and he could do them  _well_. He didn't need a plastic cup.

Slowly and carefully, he shuffled over in his bed and reached out his arm to grab Cal's glass. It was half-full so it wasn't too heavy (though the glass would make it heavier than the plastic anyway). His fingers curled around the shape and he held on tightly. He looked out at his brother again, checking he wouldn't walk in anytime soon. It wasn't like Ethan was doing anything necessarily bad, but he doubted Cal believed he could do this and probably wanted him to stick with that  _stupid_ plastic one.

Cautiously he lifted it off the surface, feeling the unusual weight of it. He wasn't used to this at all, but he wasn't going to let it deter him. He brought it to the side, uncaring of his shaking arm.

See! He could do it.

Making sure to never take his eyes off the glass, he started to bring it off the table, and soon it was over the floor. He could feel his grip slowly weakening, he wasn't used to this kind of weight in his hand and he hadn't eaten much today (much to Cal's protest). But he gripped it tighter. He wasn't going to let go.

Or at least he tried to grip it tighter. Because he couldn't. And then it fell. And then it smashed.

The effect was immediate. Cal and Dr McKay, having heard the crash, burst into the room. Ethan started to cry, no longer holding back his emotions at all. Long sobs worked their way from his throat and Cal hugged him tightly, trying to get him to calm down. Ethan knew that stress was one of his seizure triggers but right now he didn't care.

He  _hated_ this! He absolutely hated this!

He tried to push against Cal's chest, to get him to let go. He didn't want this comfort, he didn't deserve it. He was so  _useless_! He couldn't walk or speak or even do something as simple as holding a glass!

Cal didn't loosen his hold. He carried on speaking to him, getting him to breathe slower. Ethan eventually just fell against him, tired and worn out and feeling completely rotten.

* * *

It took a while for him to calm down. Eventually, Cal had let him go and held his hands instead. Ethan lay on his side, staring at Cal with tears still occasionally rolling down his cheeks. Dr McKay had said he'd get someone to clean up the glass but hadn't come back with anyone. Ethan knew he was giving Cal and Ethan some time to talk, maybe. Sort things out.

It wasn't as simple as that but Ethan kind of appreciated the gesture.

"What are you thinking, Nibbles?" Cal said after some time spent in silence. He was still holding Ethan's hands, and Ethan was drawing too much comfort from the simple touch to pull away. "You can talk to me, Eth. I'm here to listen, right now."

Ethan had barely spoken all day. It had been  _such_ a bad day. A part of him wanted to spill everything on his mind but a part of him wanted to curl up under the blanket and sleep. Preferably for a long time.

Ethan held Cal's hands tightly for a second and blinked, trying to get the blurriness from his vision. "W-wou-ldn't-t h-have b-bee-nnn s-so b-ba-d," he finally said, annoyed with himself for stuttering so much, for having so much trouble with speaking.

Cal leaned closer. "What wouldn't have been so bad?"

_Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

"It's okay, Ethan. I promise."

Another tear rolled down his cheek. "C-Cal… i-if I t-te-ll y-you ss-some-th-thi-ngg, p-pro-mmm-ise n-not-t t-o t-ell?"

He could see Cal's cautiousness. "Go on, Eth."

"I-I…" he whispered, "I w-ishh y-you-d h-ha-ve s-su-cc-eed-ed…"

"Succeeded when, Eth?" Cal said quietly, mimicking Ethan's volume.

"I-in… i-n k-ki-ll… ki-ll-in-g m-me."

Cal didn't speak for a moment and his face filled with shock, then sympathy, then sadness. "Oh, Ethan. It will get better, you know."

"W- _whe_ -n?" he screamed. His voice dropped back down to a whisper. "I h-ha-te th-is."

Cal started to stroke his hair back. "I know you do. It's not easy and you're recovering from serious injuries. But these things take time, Ethan. And you're making progress every day!"

"I-I c-an-'t ss-pe-ak p-prop… pr-o… pro-per-ly. I ca-n't w-wa-lk. I c-an-'t d-do a-ny-th-in-gg!"

"You can speak. You walked a bit today. You can do things, Ethan. I know, I  _know_  how hard it is. You can't do things that you could do before the attack. But Ethan, look at how far you've come in the last couple of months. You've made progress!"

"U-use-less-ss."

"No. Not useless. Never useless. Oh, Ethan. You will get better." He wiped Ethan's tears away with his thumb and continued stroking his hair. "Come on, you should get some rest. I'll stay here with you."

Ethan allowed himself to close his eyes, allowed himself to be comforted by the stroking of his hair and his big brother's voice, telling him stories of their childhood as he dropped off to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

_Wednesday, 25 November 2015_

"Is that all?" Cal asked, trying not to sound rude or impatient.

The police officer only smiled, seemingly not as stiff as Cal first thought. "Yes, it is. Of course we'll be in contact, but for now that's it."

"All right, thanks." Cal politely shook his hand but didn't pay attention to him as he left. Instead he focused on Ethan, who was looking far,  _far_  from relaxed. "Ethan?" Cal asked tentatively as he moved his chair as far as he could towards Ethan's bed.

Ethan turned his pale face towards Cal and he could see that Ethan's eyes were filled with tears, threatening to pour down his face in a never ending stream.

"Eth, buddy? Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Ethan was fidgeting nervously, his hands restless in his lap. "I-I c-can-'t…"

He placed his hands over Ethan's cool ones, holding them still. "Can't tell me?" he said gently.

Ethan shook his head. "C-can-'t d-do it-t."

"Eth… I'm sorry, Nibbles. Can't do what?"

Cal knew this was making Ethan frustrated. A lot of the time (although encouraged not to) he avoided certain words or long sentences. But now, today, he was avoiding saying a lot at all. And unfortunately, Cal could not read his mind.

"S-sspe-ak."

Cal squeezed his hands supportively. "Yes, you can, Ethan. I know it's not like it used to be, but you're speech is getting better."

Ethan pulled his hands away from Cal, wringing them again. "N-no. T-the t-tri-al."

Oh. Now Cal knew what was going on. "You can't speak in the trial?"

Ethan nodded, the point got across. And it meant Ethan's tears weren't just in his eyes anymore.

Cal didn't waste any time holding him and trying to calm him. He hated it was such a common gesture now but at least it went some way to calming him down.

"S-scar-ed-d," Ethan muttered into Cal's shoulder.

They'd been told the trial date by the police officer as it had finally been confirmed. It meant that Ethan's attacker might finally get what he deserved after all this time, but it also meant that Ethan had to give his account of what happened that day. And that involved the one thing Ethan was severely against: speaking in front of people. A room  _full_ of people, listening, waiting. And sometimes Ethan didn't even want to speak to his brother.

Cal rubbed his back, "it's okay, Ethan. It's okay to be scared. But you have to use that to your advantage." It was something their mother had taught them when they were young. If they were afraid, they had to harness that feeling, use it to be stronger, better. And for Ethan, it was used in the same context as now, to help him get over his stutter. Cal hoped it had the same effect on Ethan as an adult.

Ethan slowly pulled away, staring at Cal. "I-I do-n't k-no-w h-how."

Instead of letting his hands fall away, Cal put them on Ethan's shoulders. He told himself Ethan needed the physical contact, but in reality, Cal still couldn't believe he still had Ethan with him. Sometimes he thought he would wake up and it would all have been a dream. Ethan would be dead. But it wasn't. He was here. He was alive…

…and he was scared.

"Being scared can be a good thing. It can make you more wary of things. Protect you. But sometimes, like now for instance, that wariness is trying to protect you from something you Don't Need Protecting From." Cal knew Ethan was listening, trying to absorb everything he was saying. It was unlike Ethan to hang from his every word, but then again, now it  _was_ Ethan. And strangely, Cal didn't mind. "Look, Nibbles. You're going to speak in a room of people about the day you nearly died. And out of those two things, the priority isn't that there are people, it's that you  _nearly died_  because of that man. You need to look him right in the eye. He needs to  _see_ what he did."

Ethan looked away, cheeks burning red. "T-th-at I c-can-'t sp-eak. O-or s-stan-d. O-or d-o a-any-th-ing."

Cal huffed out what might have been a laugh and gently turned Ethan's face towards him. "No, Ethan," he said forcefully, but without any hint of aggression. "He needs to see that he didn't succeed. That he didn't kill you. That you  _won_. You need to show him that you came out on top, that he lost. And he's going to lose a lot more."

Ethan looked down. "H-he's al-read-y lo-st h-is fam-ily…"

Cal nodded slowly. "I know and I feel sorry for him. But, but Ethan… I nearly lost  _my_  family. My only family left."

His little brother looked up at him.

"So yep, poor him, he lost his family. But he shouldn't have gone after you. At all! He could have killed you, Eth! He nearly did. So you need to show him, you need to  _show_ him that you're alive and kicking. Okay, Ethan? You need to do this. For yourself and-and for me."

A spark lit in Ethan's eyes, determination over his face. "I-I'll do i-it."

* * *

Ethan let his head fall back onto the pillow. "D-do I-I h-have t-to?" he moaned.

"I'm afraid you do, Nibbles. Come on."

He groaned but did as he was told anyway. It was time to try walking again. Time to fall again. Olivia was, as ever, standing there with her smile. Cal was looking positive. Ethan, on the other hand, was just counting the seconds until the inevitable happened.

And in the same position he'd been in many times before, Ethan was sat on the side of his bed, his arms supporting himself either side of his chest. He shut his eyes briefly, breathing in deeply, readying himself.

_I can do this. Of course I can. I can. Cal says I can so I can… I can._

A hand clapped his shoulder, "ready Ethan?"

Ethan nodded once, opening his eyes.

This was it. He was going to do it. Of course he was. Completely focused, he started the process. Shakily standing up. Trying not to let his knees collapse beneath him. Hearing both Olivia and Cal trying to give him hope, encouraging, but for once Ethan didn't draw his hope from them. He drew it from himself.

And finally, both of his hands were on either side of the frame. He surprised himself when he found he wasn't looking at it in disgust today. It was something good, something very good.

"One step forward, Ethan," Olivia said to his left.

 _One step forward. I can do that. It's just one step._   _One small little…_

One step forward, and he hadn't fallen yet. He could see Cal's pride out of the corner of his eye but he didn't allow himself to feel happy. Not yet. It was too soon.

"Try another one now. Nice and slowly. Don't put too much pressure on your hands."

_Right. Come on, Ethan. Another step. It's not that hard. Just lift your foot and place it down again, but slightly in front. Come on._

Slowly and steadily, he lifted his right foot and placed it down in front of him. But he'd done this before (barely). He had to do more.

"Okay, Ethan. Now I want you to try and move the frame forward. It doesn't have to be by a lot." Her hands ghosted his waist. "You won't fall."

_No, I won't. I'm going to do this. I can do this._

He didn't lift it off the ground completely, the right side stayed on the floor. The left side, well, he lifted it up ever so slightly. The frame moved. Without prompting, he lifted his left foot and placed it down in front. And then did the same with his right. Then he moved the frame again.

He was  _walking_.

"Oh my God!" Cal exclaimed, making Ethan laugh slightly.

 _Now I can be happy_.

"Well done, Ethan!" Olivia said. "Do you want to sit down for a bit?"

It didn't need much consideration. He was  _tired_. He only nodded, letting himself be supported back onto the side of his bed.

Cal knelt down in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. "I'm so, so proud of you, Ethan." He smile beamed. "You are happy, right?"

Ethan smiled widely, grabbing Cal's hand. "Y-yea-h. I-'m h-hap-py."


	23. Chapter 23

_Thursday, 26 November 2015_

Dr McKay had rung him and said four simple words.  _We can't calm him_.

Cal had fallen out of his bed (...technically the on-call room bed when he shouldn't have been there, but who's talking about the technicalities) and haphazardly pulled on his trousers, still grappling with his phone. Then he'd remembered to reply to him.  _I'm coming_. He pushed his phone into his pocket and basically crawled into his t-shirt (which he was sure was on the wrong way around) before rushing straight to ITU.

He managed to glance at the time on his phone before it went in his pocket, and was sure it wasn't his sleep-ridden mind making up that it was 6 am.  _6 am_.

He didn't even know what was wrong with his brother, only that he needed calming. Dr McKay had told him yesterday (after another seizure) that they would try to limit anything that may be stressful or anything else that could cause a fit today. Cal just wished they'd sort the damn thing out already, Ethan had enough to worry about without epilepsy getting in the way.

He muttered an apology to both the nurse and the cleaner as he bashed into them and one of the cleaners trolleys on his way, but didn't stop to help them. Nor did he bother knocking, instead rushing straight into his little brother's room.

He immediately hurried to Ethan, holding him close. Ethan's previously restrained arms (probably to stop them whacking against the bed, something Ethan often did when upset) held tightly, almost desperately to Cal, and his head into Cal's shoulder, sobbing.

Cal looked questioningly up at Dr McKay over Ethan's head.

"We think he had a nightmare," he muttered in response. "We'll give you some time."

Cal appreciated that he knew Ethan barely liked confiding in Cal without an audience, so with would be even worse. He nodded his thanks before the staff members filed out of the room.

Ethan was gripping tightly to Cal's back-to-front t-shirt, his tears soaking Cal's top. Cal was rubbing his back, letting Ethan cry but also letting him know that he was there and Ethan was okay with his brother.

Eventually, Ethan's crying diminished and his arms loosened their hold. Cal knew it was partly exhaustion and Ethan's physical state causing the change but couldn't bring himself to care when he was so worried about Ethan's mental state.

"A nightmare, huh?" he said quietly. Ethan nodded into him. "Want to talk about it?"

Ethan pulled away, nodding again, staring at Cal's face through tear-filled eyes and child-like innocence. He kept his hands around Cal's.

"H-he w-wen-t fr-ee. A-at th-e t-tria-l."

"The guy who attacked you?" Cal really should have seen this coming, he mentally kicked himself for not realising. "Oh, Ethan…"

His little brother hid his face in Cal's top. "T-the-n h-he ki-ll-lle-d y-you, C-Cal."

"Nibbles," Cal sighed.

"I-I wat-ch-ed y-you d-die, Cal!"

The sobbing began again. Cal made sure to hug Ethan tightly. "Hear that, Eth? My heart beating loud and clear. The guy won't go free, he can't. Not after what he did. And I am and will be okay."

"W-wi-ll y-you s-sta-y?"

"Of course, Nibbles."

And like that, with Ethan snuggled in Cal's now soft embrace, his hair being stroked gently and Cal's heartbeat in his ears, Ethan fell asleep.

Peacefully.

* * *

Ethan stared at Cal, whose head was resting on folded arms, on the side of his bed. Cal had come in early - too early - this morning, no thanks to Ethan, and Ethan had finally persuaded him to get some sleep. But Cal, being Cal, had refused to leave Ethan. And if he was honest, Ethan was glad Cal was sticking around even now. He had silently shifted over in his bed, making room for Cal to lean.

And now, Ethan was just lying on his side, gazing at a peacefully sleeping Cal. It was quite nice. Cal tried not to show it, but he often looked stressed or tired or worried. It was mixed in with happiness or pride or encouragement, but Ethan couldn't just rule out one because another showed. He noticed how, occasionally, Cal's eyes would betray his tiredness - and sometimes, his guilt.

It was a look he knew from Cal being Cal, when he'd forgotten to pay the bills or buy more food or he left cornflakes on the sofa. He'd look at him with that same guilty look (with a bit more mischief tangled in it). There was no mischief this time.

Ethan hated,  _hated_  that look. Cal had nothing to feel guilty for.

But it was okay because while Cal slept that was all gone. He was free to dream.

A knock on the door made him turn to look from Cal for the first time in 20 minutes. He quietly uttered for the person to come in, careful not to disturb Cal (though how the knock already didn't, Ethan suspected had something to do with how much of a deep sleeper Cal could be when he was really tired).

What he wasn't expecting, however, was Connie Beauchamp to appear. She smiled when she saw him, her eyes soft. She glanced at the sleeping Cal and bit her lip to stop her chuckling.

Ethan had decided, 10 minutes ago, to ignore the tiny dribble of saliva coming out of Cal's open and softly snoring mouth (it was teasing material for later, anyway).

She went around to the other side of the bed and Ethan slowly turned his body so he could face her.

"How are you?" she said in a hushed tone.

"O-oka-y," was all he said, but when Connie said nothing, Ethan continued. "G-g-good. Wa-lke-d a b-bit yes-ster-d-day."

Her eyes lit up with what could only be described as pride. "Glad to hear it."

A silence settled between them, the sound of Cal snoring, diminishing.

Ethan looked down at his hands, fidgeting nervously. He wasn't used to such silence with his boss, well, probably former boss now.

As if reading his mind, Connie started to speak again. "Cal tells me you're concerned about your job."

Ethan stayed looking at his hands. "C-Cal t-talk-s too m-mu-ch," he muttered.

"Hey!"

Ethan's head snapped up to see Cal grinning at him, his hand wiping at his chin (and then on his trousers, which Ethan would usually scold him for but couldn't really be bothered to right now).

"I do not talk too much," he protested, though he was still smiling. Ethan, however, glared at him, trying to convey how annoyed he was that Cal told Connie.

Cal subtly shrugged, his grin turning into more of a grimace.

Staring at his own hands again, Ethan said, "I-it do-esn-'t-t ma-tt-er."

"I think it does,  _Dr_  Hardy."

He chanced a look at her.

"You still have a job in the ED."

_Do not cry. Do not cry._

He felt a tear snake down his cheek despite his hopes and let his chin fall to his chest, one of his hands wiping away his tear. "Cha-anc-es o-of a fu-full r-rec-ove-ry…"

"Look, Ethan, don't base your hope or anger or fear or  _anything_ on chances. Chances don't mean a thing. You just need to focus on getting better. Got that?  _Focus on getting better_." He looked up at her and watched as she smiled. "Then you can get back to work."

Knowing nothing else to say, he came out with a meek thank you.

She said nothing more, keeping her smile, glancing at Cal and then back at Ethan, and then walking out the room.

"So…"

"S-shu-t u-up, C-al-eb."

Cal shrugged, shaking his head. "It just came out, okay? She was asking about you and it just… slipped out. But it's a good thing! You still have a job there!"

Ethan tried to stop smiling, he really did. But he had to admit that Cal was right.

"See, you love me really."

Ethan chuckled, looking at Cal properly. "Y-yeah… I d-do."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being posted immediately after Chapter 23 so make sure you don't accidentally miss the last chapter.

_Friday, 27 November 2015_

Cal knew, realistically, he would have to tell Ethan about the car accident he was in. For one, his car was smashed up. Definitely not something he could make an excuse for or explain like it was no big deal. It would need explaining tomorrow if not today, and Cal didn't want to do it tomorrow of all days. So with the power of deduction... it would have to be today.

Owh.

Ethan was having a (rare) good time right now. There were little slip ups when he forgot how to spell things or his hand shook too much to place the piece (Cal was quick to help him out anyway so it didn't really matter all that much), but he was having a good time all the same. His eyes lit up as he scored points, mischief added when he overtook Cal's score.

It was - strangely - beautiful. (But don't tell Ethan he said that.)

"There's something I haven't told you, Eth," Cal said carefully as he'd just achieved a double word score.

Ethan's look of deep concentration fell from his face in an instant, but he didn't look at Cal. He kept his eyes trained on the pieces on the board and, silently, placed down the word  _multiple_. He picked out six more letters. Then he sat as still as he could, not looking up once from the board.

"Eth -"

"W-wri-t-te it d-dow-n."

"Ethan, please."

"M-my poi-nt-s. W-wr-ite t-them d-down."

Cal was the one shaking now, as opposed to Ethan. He wrote down Ethan's points, but didn't look at his own letters. He stared at his brother resolutely.

"Y-your t-tur-n."

Cal shook his head, a useless gesture considering Ethan wasn't looking at him. "Not until you listen to me."

" _Y-yo-ur tur-n-n_."

"For God's sake, Ethan!"

That made Ethan's head snap up, but Cal wasn't expecting the look Ethan gave him. It was fear. Ethan was  _scared_.

"I d-don-'t w-want t-to k-kno-w."

"Huh?"

Ethan looked at him pleadingly. "P-plea-s-se, C-Cal. D-don't t-te-ll me. I-I do-n't w-wan-t t-to… to… h-h… he-ar s-some-th-ing b-bad."

In any other circumstance, Ethan would be dying (probably the wrong use of the word right now, but Cal didn't dwell on it) to hear anything Cal hadn't told him, because it was usually a mess Cal had gotten into and couldn't get out of. But now, it was understandable that Ethan wouldn't want to hear it. Not after everything.

Cal really should have expected it. And maybe not have started off with something that sounded so ominous.

"It's not bad… as such."

"Y-your t-tur-n-n."

Cal rolled his eyes at Ethan who scanned the  _Scrabble_  board and his own letters. Cal did the same himself, making a small noise of triumph as he overtook Ethan in points.

Ethan focused back on the game, and before he could protest anymore, Cal went right in.

"I was in a car accident."

Ethan made no response. Cal picked out some more letters, diminishing them to only a few left. The game was nearly up. Both  _Scrabble_  and his own.

"Ethan, I crashed my car."

Slowly and carefully, Ethan started laying out the word  _crisp_.

"Ethan, please, just talk to me."

"D-did-n't w-wan-t to k-know," he said through gritted teeth, taking the last four letters and motioning for Cal to write down Ethan's points.

"Why though, Eth? Tell me why?"

The anger shone through in Ethan's eyes as he lifted his head to stare at his brother. It looked like he was going to say something. His lips moving slightly, face scrunching up. But then he took a deep breath and looked back down at the board.

"Nibbles -"

"Y-you d-don't-t g-get it. I do-n't w-wan-t to k-k-know b-bec-aus-se you a-are r-r-right h-here, ok-ay, w-with m-me. I do-n't w-want a-any-thin-g to ch-ange th-that."

Cal looked at him sympathetically. "Oh, Eth. Nothing will change it. You have me, you'll always have me! I just… needed to explain."

"N-no, y-you di-did-n't."

"I did, Eth… you'll understand soon. I promise. But, please, I want to- need to explain. You're my brother. I want to." He chuckled in spite of the situation. "If only because I don't have a car anymore."

Cal watched Ethan carefully. His chest expanded more. He took a deep breath. "O-ka-y th-en," he said without looking up. "I'll-ll l-list-en."

He nodded, preparing himself because he hadn't actually known what he was going to say. He stalled slightly, placing down the word  _bus_. "Right... so I may have accidentally drove into a fallen tree." He could see, even though Ethan wasn't looking at him, his shocked face. Cal was quick to reassure him. "Barely hurt but, well... I was less than sober and, and upset and, well, the tree took quite a beating. And my car was completely smashed up. And I wanted to apologise. First because, well the car. And second because… Ethan I had chickened out of coming here. I wanted to but I was scared and I didn't and I'm sorry it took me so long -"

"Sh-hut up-p. I d-don't ca-re h-how lo-ng-g it t-took," Ethan said as he looked up.

"You say that…"

"B-bec-aus-se I m-mean i-it," he said forcefully. He looked back down at his own few letters and placed down another word. Cal was too focused on Ethan to bother with the game. "A-and wh-ile w-we-'re on th-the s-s-sub-ject-t, I-I h-have s-some-thin-n-ng I h-have-n't t-ol-d y-you. T-two th-ings-s ac-actuall-lly."

Okay, now  _Cal_  was apprehensive.

"F-first-t th-thin-g…" Ethan grinned, glancing to Cal's eyes. "L-love y-you, C-Cal."

Cal smiled. Funny how such a simple phrase could bring him so much peace. "And the second thing?"

Ethan's eyes held their mischief. "I w-win."


	25. Chapter 25

_Saturday, 28 November 2015_

Cal waited patiently outside of Ethan's room and glanced at his (well, Ethan's spare that he found a little comfort in wearing) watch. 09:59am. He looked through the partially opened blinds. The nurse was finishing up Ethan's obs. Just a little more waiting to do. He shook his leg in anticipation and re-evaluated his earlier statement.

He was waiting  _impatiently_  outside of Ethan's room.

He watched eagerly as the second hand ticked to the hour. 10am.  _Come on, hurry up._

As if hearing his brain tick over, the door opened and the nurse appeared. She smiled at Cal, like she usually did, then started off down the corridor. Cal caught the closing door before it shut, smiling enthusiastically at his little brother, who was sitting up in bed looking… normal.

"Nibbles?" Cal said carefully as he approached Ethan and sat down in his usual chair. Ethan turned his head towards him, giving a slight side smile.

"H-hey."

Cal moved his hand to Ethan's. He was so familiar with the gesture now that he barely thought about it. And he didn't even bother trying to hide the concern in his eyes, his brother was far too important for him to be thinking about himself. "You feeling okay?"

Cal could see the denial on Ethan's lip as he hesitated, the protest ready, before he settled on, "b-bit r-rou-gh."

He sighed in sympathy. "Do you know what the date is, Ethan?"

Given, it was quite an odd out-of-the-blue question, but he hoped it would lead with something happy.

Ethan merely shook his head.

"The month, by any chance?"

"N-not r-rea-lly…" Ethan said sceptically.

"Eth, it's the 28. Of November."

Ethan had no reaction.

"Nibbles, it's your 29th Birthday."

"O-oh."

Cal gave a short cynical laugh, reverting back to type without thinking, "is that it? Just 'oh'?"

Ethan turned and looked away from him, pulling his hand from Cal's.

"No, Eth, I'm sorry," he said, reaching for his hand again, only to be rejected. He tried a gentler approach this time, regretting what he had just said. "What's up? I thought you'd be excited."

"N-not m-mu-ch to b-be exc-ite-d a-abou-t," he mumbled dejectedly.

"29 years today, little Nibbles was born. My baby brother popped his head into the world."

Ethan just huffed. Cal cautiously looked out of the slightly covered window. He knew he shouldn't do this but this was Ethan, and it was his birthday, and Cal loved him.

He shuffled onto Ethan's bed (if someone came in and told him to get off he would tell them where to stick their rules) and put his arm tightly around his shoulders, pulling Ethan in. And Ethan didn't resist, instead closing the small gap between them and holding onto Cal tightly.

"Wh-at i-if I n-nev-er ge-t bet-tt-er?" he mumbled. "W-wh-at-t d-do bir-th-days m-matt-ter if mm-my l-life is-s use-less?"

Cal rubbed his shoulder and back comfortingly. "You will get better, and even if you don't, Eth, your life is still useful. Look at you now! You can do things and think great thoughts and achieve great things!"

A pitiful little whine escaped from Ethan's throat.

"Oh, Nibbles. It's okay."

Ethan's answer was to hold onto Cal even tighter, hiding himself on Cal's clothing and succumbing to the tears. And Cal held him, because that's what brother's do.

* * *

After Ethan had calmed down a little, Cal told him about the special surprise he had lined up. Ethan perked up straight away, eager to work it out. But Cal wasn't giving in. He'd had 29 years of practice, he was a strong as steel.

But Ethan was persistent, even probing Dr McKay. Cal of course got his permission to take his brother out of the hospital from Dr McKay and unlike Cal had previously feared, Dr McKay wasn't going to let anything slip.

"G-give m-me a cl-ue?"

Cal pretended to think for half a minute, exaggerating it. "No."

Ethan laughed, "C-Cal!"

"Be patient, little bro! Patience is a virtue after all."

"Ugh."

* * *

Cal looked at Ethan's watch. 3:30pm. Finally, they could leave! He'd timed it perfectly, and if the traffic operated as he expected it to, then they would get there at the best time.

He brought in the wheelchair. Ethan looked at it, Cal could see his mind working. "W-we g-going s-some-where?"

"Ding ding! 10 points to Nibbles!"

Ethan's face lit up and a wide smile appeared on his face. "O-out o-of th-e hos-spit-al?"

"And that's another 10 points to Nibbles!" Cal hoped Ethan would be excited, even more after this morning, but this wasn't just excitement. This was complete and utter exuberance. (Let's hope it lasts now.)

Ethan manoeuvred himself so he was sat on the side of the bed. Cal helped him up at a steady pace, Ethan hated when he was really slow, but also couldn't manage it when it was fast. He guided Ethan over into the wheelchair. Ethan's smile had stayed firmly planted on his face.

As they left the hospital room, passing Dr McKay ("have a nice time, Ethan!"), Ethan didn't stop asking about what it was. Cal would have found this annoying before, but now he actually quite enjoyed it. It felt good to see Ethan so happy about something, so excited.

"I thought we'd pass through the ED on our way out, Ethan," he interrupted, stopping his little brother's guessing. "If that's okay with you, of course. We don't have to."

Cal stopped in the corridor, awaiting the answer. He didn't want to pressure Ethan into anything, but some of their friends wanted to wish Ethan a happy birthday and just generally wanted to see him. It might be… nice.

"S-sure."

"I'm afraid we can't stay too long, the surprise is - okay, I'm giving you a clue - time based."

They started off again, with Ethan thinking of new things now armed with new information.

* * *

As they came out of the lift to a place Ethan once (and would hope to again) thought of as a second home, friends currently unoccupied rushed to him, wishing him a happy birthday and asking him how he was. Cal smiled at all of them - Lofty, Max, Tess, Lily and even Connie, who came bearing a card that Cal took, sure it bare the names of their friends and knowing they could open it soon. He spotted Charlie guiding a young man to cubicles, but he smiled and gave a little wave in their direction anyway.

Cal took pity on Ethan when he saw his lost look on his face upon the questions and answered for him, "he's okay. Excited about the surprise -"

"T-that I k-kno-w n-noth-ing ab-about."

"That's why it's a surprise, Ethan," Lofty laughed.

"He's been trying to guess all day, not been successful in the slightest, I might add." He playfully ruffled Ethan's hair. Connie bit her lip, smiling a little.

"Well I hope Cal doesn't tire you too much out."

Cal pretended to be aghast, knowing this was one of the few times he could be playful with his boss. "Me? You mean you hope he won't tire me out? Do you know how hard it is to keep quiet about a secret when your little brother keeps banging on about wanting to know it?"

Connie laughed, as did the rest of them.

"Happy birthday, Ethan. Good luck in your recovery," Tess said.

"We better get going. Have fun tonight, you lot."

Max huffed, "yeah, we sure will."

And just like that, they departed the hospital. Ethan stretched out his arms. "F-free-dom."

Cal couldn't help thinking exactly the same thing.

* * *

The car drive so far was a relatively easy one. Ethan had given up trying to work it out, instead first asking how his car was so clean when it hadn't been used in months ("It's your car, Eth, and I know how you like it.") and then reverting to silence, using most of his energy to keeping his eyes open by the looks of it.

"You look tired, Nibbles," Cal pointed out finally as Ethan yawned.

"Y-yeah," he said, leaning his head on the window. "T-tir-ed."

Cal stopped, having just come to a halt at red traffic lights. Almost blindly he scrambled around the back seats, feeling fluff swipe underneath his hand. He grabbed a fistful of it and brought it to the front. "Snuggle up with that and go to sleep then. We have another hour before we get there, probably."

Ethan slowly tucked the blanket around himself, sighing contently. "O-okay," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Cal smiled to himself. He was so glad to have his brother.

Then he noticed the car horns. He was on green… oops.

* * *

"Eeeethan," Cal whispered, coming to a stop in just the right place. They'd made it in time. He shook Ethan gently. "Wakey, wakey, Nibbles."

Ethan's eyes cracked open tiredly, he turned his head towards Cal and smiled slightly. "H-hey."

"Hey, Ethan," Cal said gently as he undid both his own and Ethan's seatbelts. "We're here." He nodded his head towards the front windshield and watched as Ethan slowly turned towards it. Wonder filled his face.

"I-it's b-beaut-tif-ful… I-I lo-ve it." He grinned (and yawned). "B-bes-st sur-pris-se e-ever."

Cal turned to look out the windshield too. Ethan was right. It truly was beautiful.

Their car was parked in a rest stop on a cliff, overlooking a beach down below. The sun was setting, the sky filled with colour. Blue, orange, red, pink, yellow, mesmerising colours. The sea shimmered underneath the sunset, clouds few and far between.

They sat for a while, just watching. The silence was comforting, because they both knew who they were sat with. Ethan shuffled across in his seat, laying his head awkwardly on Cal's shoulder. Cal shuffled over too, and soon they were in a comfortable position. Ethan moved the blanket so it covered both of them.

"You know," Cal muttered, "it was near here I crashed. And before I did… I was watching the sunset. Hoping that one day I could watch it with you."

"C-Cal…" Ethan said warily.

"It's okay, Eth. Everything is going to be okay." He held Ethan's hand tightly. "Oh, Ethan. I was so scared before and I think I still am a bit. But I've got you. And I am so, so happy for that. Eth, I love you so much. Not just as a brother, but as my best friend. My favourite person in the whole world." Cal took a shuddering breath, feeling the tears rise in his eyes. "Don't ever forget it. I love you, Eth."

Ethan sniffed. "I l-lo-ve y-you t-oo, C-Cal-eb. M-my b-best-t fri-end. M-my f-favour-ite p-ers-on." He squeezed Cal's hand. "My b-broth-er."

They continued to stare out at the sky, watching the beauty of what was before them. "Whatever happens, Ethan, whatever happens in the future, we've got it. Okay? Together. I promise you that."

"T-tog-eth-er," Ethan promised back lifting a hand to wipe away his tears.

They continued watching as the sun set, the colours darkening until a rich deep blue replaced them. They held each other, safe in each other's arms.

As brothers.

Together.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

* * *

_Where next?: Ethan's attacker - Eric Otto - is tried and found guilty for attempted murder. He is given a minimum of 30 years after which he can apply for parole on account of the reasoning behind the attack and the mental state he was in, and the remorse he had showed throughout the time after he was arrested. (A/N Let's pretend this is accurate, okay? xD) In this universe, Cal doesn't die as he did in Casualty. The Alicia/Ethan/Cal live triangle doesn't happen because Ethan focuses on recovery rather than a girl, and Cal isn't all that interested in her. Cal gets his surgical rotation and turns out to become a cardiothoracic surgeon. Ethan recovers almost fully and becomes a consultant in the ED, eventually moving on to become the CEO of Holby City Hospital. Ethan's prophecy to Emilie strangely comes true, though Cal's only on his second rather than his fourth wife. Neither test positive for the gene, Matilda is Cal's biological child and Ethan's biological niece - so they get to keep her - who comes along in January (hence not featuring in this story). Ethan finds love, marries and has a child named Emilie. They all live happily ever after!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than it probably should have done to complete. I hope this doesn't seem like an abrupt place to end, but in my view I wouldn't really be able to write more for this as some of Ethan's recovery milestones have been reached and Cal and Ethan, while not definitely okay, are both better and they have each other (which was actually the whole point of this story - exploring both Ethan and Cal and their relationship)... so goal reached!
> 
> I hope whoever is reading it liked the story (and can I be a little cheeky and ask for your final thoughts on this?)
> 
> I'd just like to thank everyone who favourited, followed or left a review sometime along this journey because it honestly means a lot and basically kept this story going, for there did come a point I seriously considered stopping it. So thank you!
> 
> 'Til next time!
> 
> InfinityAndOne x


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